


For Your Entertainment

by Mangacat



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Breathplay, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Sex Toys, better bdsm etiquette later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangacat/pseuds/Mangacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just about the most notorious excuse that any hollywood actor who finds themselves in precarious position will use. But leather pants and leash notwithstanding, Jensen was still just <i>doing research.</i> That’s when things actually get complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Night

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for the au_bingo prompt: Other: Celebrities. Inspired by thoroughly by the the Adam-Lambert-Album of the same name. It started out as a PWP and then met fairygodpester insane_songbird, she created a monster. And also made gorgeous art for it on top of that. The story was betaed in record time by the fabulous candygramme. This is proof that New Year's resolutions are good for something after all. Mine was 'More Words'. Go figure.

**_ First night _ **

The bass of the fast dance track slams through the floor, up the soles of his feet and right into his brain just a little stronger than he likes, but it’s a club after all, so he’s not exactly complaining. The multi-coloured strobes make it impossible to make out the faces of the people around him, even though the floor’s packed enough, that he can smell them a lot better. Still, it suits  him, actually it’s kind of great, because, short of an all out spotlight, there’s no way somebody will recognize him as Jensen Ross, Hollywood Beau. 

Being one of the most critically acclaimed actors in Hollywood before you're thirty is not easy. Actually, it really amps up the pressure. People think that having money and fame – the ablity to choose between scripts that get sent in by Scorcese’s people, Cameron’s people or Marshall’s people, and the fact that every little schoolgirl (even if she’s inside a fifty-something soccer mom.) swoons if they happen to spot you in the mall – is everything short of heavenly bliss. 

Well, they got it backwards. 

Living the life of a VIP with a Platinum card and a red carpet that seems to constantly roll out in front of him even if he’s in sweatpants, well, it’s exhausting for starters. And while Jensen has had a stretch of critical reviews in the important circles of the business that praise his all out performance in this blockbuster or that, the tabloid press gets hung up on his looks and speculate right and left whether he’s had his cheekbones smoothed out and his ass lifted since last season. 

He hasn’t – just for the record – but he DOES take all his roles seriously, which is the one reason why he puts up with all the negs of his celebrity status, because it allows him to do best what he loves most. Still, all the method acting in the world does not explain why he let Misha rope him into this one. It started with script that his illustrous manager sneaked onto the top of the pile, but Jensen likes to indulge him like that, because Misha’s not only his manager for the extra zero he somehow manages to weasel out of the producers all the time, but also because he’s got great taste. When he read the script where this rag-tag cop finds himself faced with a murder case in the local bondage-subculture, where a different set of rules applies, Jensen was instantly intrigued. Not so much because he’s all that interested in the BDSM kind of thing, but for the fact that it’s something different from mainstream, and he likes to try his hand at roles like that. Negotiations had started up right after he expressed interest, but Misha’s driving a hard bargain, and they haven’t quite sealed the deal yet. Still, mentioning to his manager that he knows next to nothing about the scene was kind of a mistake. 

It’s how he finds himself dancing in the middle of a crowd with his legs encased in the tightest leather pants money will buy, (Katie’s words, and she’s wardrobe, she _would_ know.) and a light blue button down that was rather decent until Misha scoffed and ripped it open, killing the top three buttons, right before they set foot into the building. He also vanished on Jensen immediately afterwards with a haphazard ‘Enjoy’ on his lips, and suddenly he found himself in the middle of the dance floor of the most exclusive underground club in town with a wall of bodies on four sides. 

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?

And Jensen’s not actually that stuck up that he doesn’t know how to have a good time any more, even if the percentage of leather, latex and collars all around is quite a bit higher than in his usual haunts. The music is good, and the atmosphere is actually not all that different from any hot spot in town. It’s easy to lose himself in the crowd and forget that this establishment habitually provides back rooms for people to go and… _play,_ and that the invite-only restrictions on this place are almost as tight as those at the White House. Somehow he’s managed to dance himself to the edge of the floor, and he takes a slim opening to stumble out into the bar area that’s still quite populated, but not as packed. 

The sudden change between body heat and the draft of cool air the AC fans pump through the factory basement makes the hair on his body stand on end, and gooseflesh pebble his sweaty skin. A shiver rakes down his chest and back, and suddenly, Jensen feels exposed, strangely vulnerable and in dire need of a drink. When Misha told him that he should look into the machinations of the scene a bit if he wants to nail the role, he thought of some late night google search with lots of embarrassed blushing and exasperation, but this hands on approach kind of blindsided him. Still, if he wants to deliver a stellar performance he can’t be squeamish, and, while he’s a little wary, he hasn’t seen anything really gross or a complete turn-off. Benefit of the doubt, really. 

While he entertains these thoughts, he scores a place at the bar even though the barkeeper is steadfastly ignoring his attempts to order. It’s kind of refreshing, since people normally fall right over themselves to serve him, but it gets annoying after approximately half a dozen customers get their drink before him. He’s resorted to screaming his order over the counter, but the music is loud, and it’s not actually difficult to pretend that his voice is drowned out by the bassline. Jensen prepares to lean over the counter and take the bar keeper by the scruff of his neck the next time he whizzes by, when he feels the heat of a _presence_ right behind his back, and a rough voice drawls:

“Hey, Mike, get me a whiskey straight for this one, alright?”

Jensen makes to tell the guy that's standing right in his personal space, that it’s a hopeless endeavour, when the barkeeper’s head whips around fast enough to give him whiplash, and ten seconds later there’s a glass sitting in front of him. Jensen looks at it, dumbfounded, for a moment. 

“What, did I choose wrong? I thought I heard you right there.” 

The words drag him out of his stupor and make him look up at the knight in shining armour so to speak, travelling from the strong hand that just put a couple of bills down on the counter next to his drink - that get whisked away instantly - up a muscled arm, to a defined chest and a gorgeous pair of twinkling hazel eyes. The guy is stunning… and huge. He leans in next to Jensen and picks up his own drink that appeared out of thin air and lifts the glass to his lips with a raised eyebrow. That’s when Jensen notices that he’s been staring and not answering at all. 

“Uhm… I.. yeah, it’s alright… I...”

“He was waiting for someone to stake claim, you know? Mike has an eye for preferences. He knew you were a sub from the moment you stepped up to the bar. I’m Jared by the way.”

Jensen reacts instintively, before his brain has time to catch up on what the guy just said, so his reply comes out a little jumbled. He wants to bash his head against the bar… real smooth. 

“Eh, I’m Jensen. And… wait, what? I’m… oh no, I’m not…”

Jared sips at his drink and shoots him a look from under two raised eyebrows that says _oh yes, you are._ A flutter starts in the pit of Jensen’s belly, and he feels completely out of his depth.

“First time? Yeah, definitely, I see now. I know it can all be a little overwhelming when you step into the scene for the first time, but I promise you won’t regret it.”

Jensen gapes a little and wants to say something… anything.

_ I didn’t come here to be picked up. _

_ I’m just waiting for my manager, who abandoned me right here, stupid moron. _

_ I’m not interested. _

_ I’m not even gay, sorry.  _

Yet, no words cross his lips. Instead, Jared nods at his drink that still sits on the bar, and he finds his fingers closing around the cool glass, before he even gets a thought in edgewise. 

Because he doesn’t want to appear like a total tool, he doesn’t let go of the drink but puts the glass to his lips and knocks back more than half of it in one swig as if that was his intention all along. When he lowers the glass and feels the liquid burn down his throat though, he meets Jared’s eyes and sees the other man smirk in a mischievious way that tells him he’s been caught. The liquid heat spreads in his belly. right next to that treacherous flutter. and he suddenly gets dizzy, the air in his lungs running out. because somehow he forgot how to breathe from one second to the next. A hand settles onto his elbow, squeezing lightly, and suddenly air is rushing back into his lungs. Jensen can’t help but gasp faintly at the sensation. 

“There, I told you, you’re a natural.”

This finally has Jensen’s hackles rising. He might not be an expert in the scene, but he knows enough to have a clue about what’s what here and feel just the slightest bit threatened in his masculinity. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you got that right, I’m not like that.”

That came out sounding a lot more wrong than it should have, but Jared just grins – showing off an impressive set of dimples that are deepened by the glaring white light of the bar, but which make him look a lot younger all of a sudden. 

“Oh, I beg to differ. But how about we go to the back, where it’s easier to talk, and you give me a chance to _change your mind?”_

They’re halfway through the club when Jensen comes to, stumbling along behind Jared's wide strides, aware of the firm grip on his arm. He raises his hand to pry the man’s fingers from his arm - by force if necessary - but Jared turns around just as he moves, and his eyes flash with _something._ Jensen’s arm falls back like all his strings have been cut, and he’s suddenly in the back of his head, screaming at himself to get a fucking grip already and get _out._ His body has different ideas, however, and he follows until they arrive in front of a little window in the wall, where a clerk stands with his elbows perched leisurely on the counter. Jared brandishes a credit card at him.

“Hey, Chad, tell me you got one free right now.”

Chad plucks the plastic out of the offering hand daintily, and his fingers fly over the keys of the little monitor that’s built into the wall next to him, while he swipes the card. 

“Sure can do, my boy, for you always. I’m going to open Three for you in two, just you go through, you know the way.”

Just then, Chad looks up and past Jared, and his eyes widen for the fraction of a second with something like… recognition - _fuck -_ and then he exclaims, “Oh no, Jared you _didn’t!”_

But they’re through the door that just slid open in the wall beside the counter, and in the corridor, before they can hear any more. Jared strides on confidently, and they pass a couple of steel doors before stopping in front of another one of the same type. There’s no handle on the door, only a key pad that's still blinking red, which is just about all Jensen has the chance to figure out, before he is slammed bodily against the cold steel, and Jared is pressing in with his looming height. 

“God, you’re gorgeous, but you knew that already, didn’t you? Bet they tell you that on a daily basis. Imma make you mine so good, baby, trust me.”

The tall man nuzzles Jensen’s neck, soft chestnut curls catching on his five o’clock shadow. He’s just about to shove Jared back to a more appropriate distance, when the door behind him gives, and they stumble into the room. They would have landed in a heap too if Jared hadn’t caught them just in time. 

Jensen wants to gain his footing, he really does, but before he gets the chance, Jared attacks his lips in a ferocious kiss. He’s never kissed a man before, though he’s speculated all right, drunken college conversations and all that. Still, imagination doesn’t even come remotely close to the real thing, how different, and how very much the same it is. Jared’s lips are soft and full, and his tongue sneaks in unapologetically, right when Jensen gasps for a breath. It’s good, strangely enough, and after Jensen takes up the challenge to give as good as he gets, it actually starts feeling great. They dance around each other, tasting, probing, testing boundaries, and while they’re occupied, Jensen feels Jared fiddling at the hem of his shirt, single-handedly slipping the surviving buttons through their holes. He’s too caught up in the slick, sensual slide of skin against skin to care though, just hisses slightly when long fingers snick over his pebbled nipple on their journey upwards to his shoulder. Before he can think about it though, Jared does some amazing twisty thing with his tongue that sends a stab of arousal straight south, bypassing his upstairs brain entirely. 

His hips surge forward of their own accord, meeting their counterparts head on, and suddenly it’s like a bucket of ice water’s been emptied right over his head. He jerks out of the kiss and realizes a couple of things at once. First, his partner’s too hard in all the wrong places and definitely not soft enough in all the right ones, and he’s just _that_ much bigger than him. Second, his shirt’s completely open and hanging down his back, with only one arm in a sleeve. And third, his right arm is suspended up in the air, with his wrist encased in a broad leather manacle that’s attached to the high ceiling with a sturdy looking chain. And he has absolutely no idea when it _got_ there. Instinctively, Jensen tries to pull his arm down, but he’s shackled pretty tight, and the chain doesn’t give even an inch. His heart starts racing, and cold sweat trickles down his back, when the blinding urge to break _free_ crashes through the arousal. Panic roars at the back of his mind and chokes the words in his throat, so he shoves at Jared’s chest to make the man back off, trying to keep him at bay and to cover himself at the same time, since his flailing movements made the shirt slide off completely. However, Jared doesn’t back down, even though Jensen’s actions should tell him that it’s quite enough already, so he does the one thing that comes to mind and takes a swing at the bigger man. 

The shackled arm throws his body off balance completely, and his fist doesn’t even come close to hitting Jared, who sidesteps the punch easily and grabs his free arm with both hands to trap it against his stomach. He keeps his wrist in one hand, and draws him in with a strong arm behind Jensen’s back. Jensen bucks and struggles to get out of the embrace, but Jared ignores him, dropping butterfly kisses onto Jensen’s neck where his thundering pulse must be visible right under his skin. 

“Shhh, baby, it’s alright, don’t be like that.”

“Let me the fuck go, _right the fuck now!”_

“Oh come on, you don’t mean that. I’m sorry I startled you like that, but I wanted to make sure that you don’t go bolting on me, before we even get the party started.”

“I… you can’t make me… I can’t…”

“Oh, but you can, baby, I promise. If you give in to me now, I’m gonna make you feel so good. You got a taste of it just now, didn’t you? The thrill? Let me take care of you. All you have to do is trust me.”

Trust Jared, who’s a complete stranger, who dragged him in here, head over heels, without really asking once, who just jumped him like that and made him feel…

Who’s giving him the choice,… the choice to say no right now, right here and walk away, never knowing what could have happened next. 

Before Jensen can process the thought, Jared opens his mouth and licks his neck from his ear down to the dip between his collarbones, where he opens his mouth and _sucks the air right out of Jensen_ , teeth scraping over skin. The hand on his back slides lower and lower, splays on his ass, squeezing lightly, and Jensen feels his eyes roll up into his head. All tension drains out of his body, and he doesn’t fight any more when Jared lifts his arm slowly, fixing the second manacle around his wrist with careful, precise movements. Jensen opens his eyes and looks at the door for a moment, before his gaze fixes onto Jared again, whose eyes blaze with lust and excitement and… strangely, something akin to reverence. 

“That’s it, baby, I’m going to teach you everything, just wait. Do you want to be a good student?”

Jensen nods feebly. 

“Very good. First thing, I’m going to need a safeword from you, something mundane, anything that comes to your mind.”

Jensen frowns a bit and licks his lips nervously. Of course he knows the concept of a safeword, but he’s never needed one before and is a little out of his depth about what to choose. And he’s a little distracted by Jared’s big hands that stroke lightly up and down his back.

“It’s not complicated, just give me the first thing that you can think of.”

“Uhm… Voodoo.”

“Voodoo? Hmm… no, it’s alright, nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s perfect. Now, keep in mind that if you ever utter this word in here, from now on, I’m going to let you go, and you can walk straight out of here if that’s what you want.”

Jared takes his jaw and turns his head up, so he has no choice but to look into those hazel eyes. 

“However, I want you to know also that you can trust me to know your boundaries well enough to _not_ use it at all. I’m going to push you right to your limit and then some, but I promise you, I know exactly what you can take, and that’s what I’m going to give you.”

Jensen looks back unwaveringly, and Jared seems to find what he’s been looking for, because he smiles brightly and lets his thumb caress the slight stubble that grows on Jensen’s jaw. 

“Lesson number one, I’m going to talk, you’re going to listen, understood?”

“I… yes.”

“…”

“Yes… sir.”

“There, that’s it. Now, I’m giving you permission to scream, and moan and whimper to your heart’s desire in here, but you’re not to utter a single word… except for that special one we agreed upon earlier.”

“Yes, sir.”

Without warning, Jared takes one of Jensen’s nipples and twists it sharply, wresting a surprised cry of pain from his throat. 

“What did I say about words? Don’t utter them.”

Jensen glares at Jared for all he is worth, eyes blazing with barely contained fury at the unfair punishment, but he keeps his mouth shut all the same. If the other man wants to play this game like that, well, it takes two to tango. The silent defiance seems to satisfy Jared a lot though, and he bends down to lave at the abused nipple in a way that sends shivers down Jensen’s spine. It’s not long before he keens deep in his throat as sensitive nipples are lavished with attention like that; he can’t help it. 

His hips buck again in search for more friction, while his pants get uncomfortably tight, and when Jared shifts his leg to meet his thrusts, Jensen doesn’t care one lick that it’s a very muscular, very male thigh he’s grinding against. He even grasps the chains in a tight grip to gain more leverage and spreads his legs wider. Suddenly though, just before he’s quite there, his body meets thin air, and every point of contact with Jared is gone. Confused and frustrated, he opens his eyes, but the other man is nowhere to be seen. His head whips around but he can’t turn far enough to see the other end of the room, since the chains keep him literally spread-eagled. Before the fear of abandonment can bubble high though, he hears Jared speak from some corner in the room he can’t see. It sounds like he’s distracted and talking against the wall instead of facing Jensen. 

“You know, what we do here, it’s not quite about sexual gratification – though that’s a definite bonus, I’ll admit that any day. But it’s still more about trusting someone else to know exactly what you need right now. It’s about letting go.”

Jensen feels a tremor start out in his strained legs, which are slowly getting tired of taking all his weight at this awkward angle. He knows that they can’t have been here all that long, but still the position is pulling at muscles he didn’t know he had, and the anticipation of what will happen next adds a tension just shy of actual pain. Still, he doesn’t permit himself more than a grunt, when he shifts his feet slightly. 

“So, Jensen, what is it that you need? Paddle? Riding crop? Whip? Cane? Ah… I knew it.”

Suddenly Jared’s presence is back right behind him, and he jerks a little in surprise when the other man whispers into his ear.

“You’re so good, baby, so responsive. I haven’t been with somebody I could read like you in ages. So… how many do you want, five, ten, twelve? Oh yes, I can feel it quivering right under your skin. So tell me, how many?”

Jensen closes his eyes, warring with himself as to whether he should answer or not, since Jared forbade him to speak, and he’s made it clear that he’s willing to deal out punishment instantly. Still, it’s the only way he can control what’s done to him, so he decides to take the new order at face value instead of the old one. 

“Five.”

Jared’s reply comes instantly, but his voice grows more distant with every word. 

“Ah, ah, don’t go breaking the rules on your first day; that’s not how it’s done. I told you first thing that you are not allowed a single word. This is not going to work out if you don’t follow the rules.”

Jensen wants to rage and scream that he doesn’t even know which  rules apply right now, but he only has the sliver of a second to brace himself, when the crack of a whip echoes through the room and a lash of liquid fire races all the way across his back. A scream tears from his throat, but a second lash follows immediately, and the air rushes out of his lungs when it crosses the first one. 

“That’ll teach you to obey the rules the way I make them.”

Jensen slumps forward, trying to escape the vicious burn, but Jared is relentless. 

“Oh, there, there, baby, don’t give out already, you've still got a ways to go to the full dozen.”

Jensen winces at the prospect of ten more, when the first two have already been agonizing. Still, he straightens up and sets his jaw, refusing to back down at Jared’s goading words. However, as soon as he stands still again, the whip cracks without warning again, striking three times in rapid succession. The lashes aren’t as strong this time around, but they still take his breath away. He grits his teeth and throws his head back, but now that he knows what to expect, it’s easier to bear. The most excruciating thing is really only being unable to see Jared and anticipate when he will strike next. The sixth one draws a straight line over his lower ribs, almost all the way around to his solar plexus. Jensen moves away to the side reflexively and puts a lot of strain onto his right shoulder that way, which draws a distressed whimper out of him. 

“Shhh, baby, you’re doing so good; it’s all right.”

A hand sliding onto his left shoulder startles him out of his daze, and the smooth, cool silk of Jared’s shirt is bliss against the heated skin of his back. Jared’s right hand appears from behind, wrapping around his stomach, and when Jensen glances down, it’s his first chance to take a look at the cause of his pain. It’s a black rod with a thin strip of black leather attached, that dangles down onto the floor. It looks completely harmless like that, but Jensen knows that it’s probably worse than a broad belt. The thought makes him shiver. Jared picks up on it instantly and caresses the thin skin of Jensen’s abdomen with lazy circles. 

“A penny for your thoughts.”

Jensen looks at Jared out of the corner of his eye and allows a lazy smirk to stretch his lips. He’s not about to make the same mistake twice. 

“Oh, forgive me, I give you permission to tell me your thoughts.”

Jensen cocks his head slightly to get a better angle and mulls over the request. Yes, Jared gave him permission, but he never actually said something about talking. It’s a trap all right, but Jensen can’t help but think that Jared might find a way to twist it into more punishment if he doesn’t find a way to fullfill his wishes. So he thinks about how he could tell Jared without actually saying a word. It’s actually quite easy once he's made the connection. 

Jensen makes sure that Jared looks at him closely, and he slowly licks his bottom lip, until he can be sure that he has Jared’s full attention. When their eyes meet again, he quickly looks down at Jared’s hand on his waist and up again. 

“Oh, you’re learning all right! I knew you’d be a quick study. So, what is it? The whip?”

Jensen licks his lip lightly again, then bites down. 

“The whip, indeed, but there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Another blink downwards, a little to the side. 

“What is it then,” Jared’s hand sweeps down and onto the waistband of his pants, “the leather on your skin?”

The long and graceful fingers catch slightly on an empty belt hoop, and Jensen draws a sharp breath. 

“Oh, there’s something, it’s… wait, it’s the belt?” Jensen takes his lower lip between his teeth and lets it slide out slowly. Jared raises his eyebrows and lets out a low chuckle. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. Do you even know how incredibly hot you are right now, defying me in a way that keeps me from punishing you?”

Jensen smiles devilishly and docks one point on Jared’s tally. They’ll get even all right. But he doesn’t actually count on the fact that Jared’s played this game a lot longer than he has. 

“Well, I think you deserve a reward then, don’t you?”

Jared presses in from behind even more, while he deftly undoes the buttons of Jensen’s uncomfortably tight pants and the sudden pressure relief makes Jensen sigh, until he realizes that, despite the pain that’s still smarting on his back, he’s rock hard. Jared doesn’t give him time to get his bearings before he snakes in his fingers right down, touching him, rubbing the heated skin at the base of his cock, tantalizing, teasing and _not quite enough._ He bucks into it lightly, testing Jared’s patience, turning to place his lips onto the other man’s pulse point and _suck_. He gets a taste of sweat and musk for a moment, before everything is forcibly wrenched away from him. And he hears Jared's goading voice hiss behind him.

“Oh, dear, that was a good one. Thought you’d have me all caught up in the niceties, so that I’d forget that I still owe you half a dozen, hmmm? I should double the toll just for the sake of it.”

A tremor runs through Jensen at the words, and he feels sweat trickle down his back.

“Wait, what was that? You _want_ those, don’t you? Why, you almost had me fooled. Can’t have that; just giving you what you want. You’re only getting those six, but I promise I’m going to make them… special.”

 

The seventh lash comes out of the blue again, striking right across his shoulders, stinging on his arms, but Jared has taken up counting them now.

“Eight”

Jensen still can’t tell very well when they’re coming, but they all hit in exceptionally sensitive places now and make the first half a dozen look like a slap on the wrist.

“Nine.”

“Ten.”

This time the whip lashes all the way across his vulnerable abdomen, and it’s the first welt he can actually see, the skin red and irritated from just a minute touch. He doesn’t get time to ponder though.

“Eleven.”

It snakes up his back, over his shoulder, and only a whisper in the air warns him, before the tip lashes right across his nipple. The shock travels lightning fast through his body, a jolt that races through his nervous system like the domino effect, muscles seizing in his thighs, eyes flying wide open. The pain hits right after, wrenching a scream from his lips before he can stop it, and the only thing that keeps him in his right mind is the steely cold bite of the chains on his palms and the jump of his cock inside his pants.

Through the haze, he can hear Jared’s voice.

“Just one more, baby, come on, be good; spread your legs. That’s it, as wide as they go.”

Jensen wonders faintly what Jared might have up his sleeve that could top this one, but he regrets that thought a second later when Jared says “Twelve” right on the crack of the whip.

The last, perfectly aimed lash, hits the vee of his left hip to wrap around his thigh, biting into the leather of his pants about half an inch away from his balls.

Jensen howls.

 

He comes to again when he feels his arms being lowered slightly as the chain gives. Jared must have fiddled somewhat with it, since he can stand more comfortably now. His muscles are still screaming from the exertion of holding his position that long, but it’s small relief. His back is a mass of flaming welts that pull slightly everytime he moves, but the sensations fading already. There’s probably going to be a few bruises, which will be a bitch for make-up, but Jared seems to have refrained from breaking skin. Speaking of which, once Jensen gets the affairs in his head in order, he realizes that the other man is prowling to and fro in front of him, watching his every move. He also becomes aware of the throbbing in his balls that has absolutely nothing to do with the near miss a few minutes before and everything with Jared’s gleaming, naked chest. When the tall man sees him looking, he stops dead in his tracks and looks Jensen straight in the eye.

“You did really good. So, I’m going to ask you once. Do you want me to end this now? I think you can take more, much more than this, but I’d understand if you wanted to savour that for another time.”

His face is dead serious, and Jensen knows that he won’t be scoffed at if he were to back out now and call it a night. But he’s also pretty damn horny right now. So, instead of delivering his safeword, he pushes out his chin, straightens up and lifts his arms to the postion they were before, pointedly ignoring his protesting muscles.

 

Jared’s eyes cloud over instantly, and he’s in front of Jensen with two strides, cupping his jaw tenderly.

“Are you sure?”

Jensen looks at him for a moment and then surges up to leave a searing kiss on Jared’s lips. He dearly hopes that the other man will take the hint right the fuck now. Jared does and reacts by suddenly spinning him around a couple of times, which makes Jensen dizzy and pulls his arms up over his head, where the chains pull tight. Before he can shake off his confusion, Jared has kicked his legs apart as far as they will go, which makes his junk hang obscenely out of his open fly. Jensen feels himself flush with humiliation at the display he is putting on, hard and eager, even though he is chained up and exposed like that. He’s completely blindsided though, when Jared falls to his knees, splaying them wide as he sits back on his haunches to study the offering just as if he would when browsing shop windows. Jensen has no idea if he is going to go through with the kind of play that usually comes after this position, but even the thought draws a moan from his mouth. Jared shoots him a dark look up from under his eyelashes that tells him the other man knows exactly what’s going through his head.

 

Jared puts his hands on his thighs in a relaxed stance that makes him look like he intends to just keep staring at Jensen’s desperate cock all night. But before he can whimper once more from the torture of having something he wants so badly right in front of him with no way of getting it, Jared opens his mouth:

“Don’t. Move. And don’t you dare come.”

Then he leans forward and swallows Jensen down to the root. Jensen yells, his voice hoarse from their previous endeavours, and holds off his orgasm by the skin of his teeth. He also barely squashes the immediate urge to thrust into that hot, sweet mouth and lose himself in oblivion. Jared’s hold over him is just that good though, and he feels the world crashing back into place when the other man draws back with his teeth scraping over Jensen’s skin in a way he thought he really couldn’t stand when girls were careless like that. With Jared though, it’s not carelessness, it’s calculation, every swipe of his tongue, every nick of his teeth, the hollowing of his cheeks is designed to turn Jensen on just that little bit more. He feels silent tears running down his cheeks as he tries to get the trembling muscles in his thighs to keep his hips from surging forward, but it’s a futile battle.

 

Finally, at the point where Jensen feels his control is about one lick away from snapping, Jared moves off, sitting back with his hands where he’d put them just before, and his lips glistening, to admire his handiwork some more, before he gets up with one fluid motion. He’s leaning in to Jensen, rubbing their noses lightly against each other when he whispers.

“Now… I’m going to belt your ass until you come.”

With that, he vanishes from Jensen’s line of sight, leaving a trembling wreck in his wake, but it doesn’t take long until Jensen hears the snap of a belt right behind him, a fair warning this time.

“One.”

The broad side of the belt connects with his right buttock.

“Two.”

And then with his left, the jolt of delicious pain making his toes curl in anticipation.

“Three.”

The fire on his backside pools right down into his belly, and Jensen has just enough time to feel his balls draw up, before pleasure makes the world white out.

 

~*~

 

When Jensen comes to, he’s leaning against the wall next to the coat rack, fully dressed and with all his personal effects on him – not that he could bring much, since the pants were just _that_ tight. He blinks for a moment to clear the fog in front of his eyes and wonders if this whole experience was just a drunken nightmare., but straightening up is quite enough to tell him on no uncertain terms that he’s had his ass handed to him by a complete stranger tonight – on a silver platter. He takes a deep breath and calls the driver to pull up in front of the entrance, then texts Misha to get here in five, or he’s leaving the fuck without him.

 

Misha stumbles out of the clubbing crowd three minutes later, pleasantly tipsy and laughing his ass off at something someone screams into his ear, right as he leaves the throng. Jensen glares and holds out his coat to him, jerking his head to the door, where the driver’s sitting with the engine running. He doesn’t wait for Misha to fumble his arms into the coat sleeves, but strides out instead to where the driver’s holding the door for him. It’s not an all-out stretch limo – he detests those things, they’re fricking conspicuous – but it’s still got a couple backseats opposing each other, so that people can sit comfortably face to face. Jensen immediately scoots over to the far end, settling his back very very carefully against the cool leather. Misha climbs in after him, throwing himself into the seat opposite to Jensen’s.

“Man, you were totally MIA in there. I thought for sure that I’d get a text during the first ten minutes, telling me to hightail it out of there already.”

Jensen glares daggers at his manager.

“MIA, my ass. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten how you just up and vanished on me as soon as we set foot through the door.”

“Oh dear…. Jensen you need to loosen up a bit. I thought I was going to sacrifice my club night for a dip and dash, so excuse me for going after some fun right away. Instead, wonders never cease, and I got to amuse myself for a couple of hours. Makes me wonder what you got up to in the meantime. Don’t tell me that you found yourself a little dominatrix to give you a good spanking.”

 

Jensen glares at Misha some more before he balls his fist on his knee and looks outside. He can see Misha’s mouth fall open in the reflection in the car window, but the satisfaction of having rendered his mouthy manager speechless for once is overshadowed by the truth. When Misha finally finds his voice again, it’s with a vengance.

“Jesus fuck, Jensen you _didn’t!”_

Jensen glares at Misha some more via the reflective surface of the window, but refuses to give anything away. He moves to cross his arms in front of his chest but regrets it a second later, when the movement pulls at the welts on his back. He manages to stifle a hiss, but notices too late how his shirt slides down to one side. When hears Misha’s gasp it’s too late already, and his friend surges over to drag his shirt down to reveal the side of his chest where Jared’s second to last stroke lashed right across his nipple.

“Jesus fuck, Jensen.”

He grabs Misha’s hand in a vice-like grip in the blink of an eye and holds his gaze with an icy glare.

“Not One Word About _This.”_

Misha – for all that is holy – gets it, probably for the first time in his life, and backs off. They spend the rest of the way in silence, and it’s a good thing when they arrive at Jensen’s villa. When the driver opens the door, Jensen bolts with a haphazard good-bye thrown over his shoulder, and then he’s inside his home and feels like he can breathe again for the first time.

 

The bathroom tiles are cold under his naked feet, and while he slowly peels away the layers from his aching skin. When he looks at his back in the bathroom mirror, he stifles a whimper and wipes the moisture out of the corner of his eyes. He feels like he feels like he stepped right out of the vestiges of a dream and the borders between what happened and what he remembers are fuzzy and blurred. The shower doesn’t take long to warm up, thankfully, and it’s just a few seconds, until he can step behind the glass doors and under the spray of scalding water. Jensen lets the water hit his upturned face for a moment, before he leans forward on his hands and bends his neck. The spray hits the welts on his back, and the sob that’s been working itself up his throat breaks free all of a sudden. Once it’s out, there’s no holding back, and the physical pain mixes into the emotional upheaval of what he did tonight, until it’s run it’s course, and the wracking sobs die down. That’s when he notices that he’s hard again. Instantly, he wrenches the temperature from scalding hot to freezing cold. His teeth start chattering at once, and a chill races down his spine, but thankfully it takes care of his… problem pretty damn fast. Shivering, he steps out of the shower and only gives himself a cursory patting down with a towel before he slinks back into his bedroom where he curls up tight under the sheets.


	2. Second Night

Jensen has really no idea why he actually has to be _there_ for most of these executive meetings. Because it’s mostly Misha talking the producers down from the latest extras they are trying to put into his contract that was supposed to be finalized already, and they barter around for a while, until the execs agree to the version that Misha had drawn up in the first place, because Misha’s batshit crazy, but he’s fierce where his job is concerned. And then everyone makes nice and pats themselves on the back for a job well done, while Jensen has nothing else to do but put his chicken-scratch on a piece of paper to dry. Honestly, he’d be glad if they could just email him the thing when they’re done. Still, Misha insists that he shows his face to the buyers at least once before he comes to set for the first time, so that he can be sure that there’s no foul play with his contracts and all that. He trusts Misha with everything he owns, and there’s not one studio executive that he trusts further than he can throw him, so it’s pretty much the same game everytime.

 

It’s also the reason why he finds himself sitting in a overly airconditioned conference room like ten thousands of others in the city, bored out of his skull and trying tune out the legalspeak that goes right over his head. To add insult to injury, he’s also grumpy as hell, because he hasn’t had a good wank for close to a week. But that’s a thought that he’s not touching with a ten-foot pole, and  it certainly isn't an excuse for backing out of a meeting. That’s why he’s deeply grateful when his cell vibrates in his pocket, indicating a new text. He knows that it’s impolite to check your phone so blatantly in company, but he’s a fucking A-lister, and all the other people in the room are too occupied with themselves anyway. So Jensen slides the phone out of his pocket and hopes to God that’s it’s Chris or someone with something interesting to say.

When he gets a good look at the screen, he fumbles to keep the phone from slipping through his fingers while he feels all colour drain from his face.

_U r coming 2nite. – J_

Misha instantly picks up on his distress and stops talking to stare at him, but Jensen waves at him to continue immediately. He gets up and turns to the window, from where he instantly sends off his furious reply.

_Definitely not._

The answer is instant.

_Oh yes, you are, bb._

Jensen sees red and abruptly turns his phone off – which he never does – so that he’s not tempted to dignify that with a response. How dare that bastard go for his number and then give him an outrageous order like that? Something chimes in the back of Jensen’s head, but before he can think about it, Misha taps his shoulder.

“What is it?”, he snaps irritably.

Misha looks taken aback, but he gets right to the point.

“We’re all set; you just have to sign now.”

Jensen thanks all that is holy for small favors and turns around to get right on it. Normally he would take his time to at least have a cursory look over a couple of pages before he signs, but right now he just needs to get out of there. He jots his signature haphazardly onto the dotted line and leaves Misha to explain his off-hand exit to the flabbergasted studio execs.

 

~*~

 

Jensen’s off his rocker. Batshit crazy. Totally out of his head. There’s no excuse, absolutely no excuse! why else he would be standing in the entrance of the club wearing the very same leather pants. He doesn’t even know how to find Jared in the throng of all those people, and somehow he doubts that the man will prowl the floor all night until he shows his face. Jensen decides to avoid the dance floor this time and veers off to the left, once he’s stepped into the room proper. He's aiming to find a quieter corner where he can plan his next move. He jumps right out of his skin when an arm shoots out of the wall to grasp his elbow, before a familiar voice reveals that his path incidentally brought him by Chad’s window counter.

“Hey, there you are. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that. I just should tell you that he’s waiting for you in Five.”

The wall next to Jensen slides open to reveal the built-in doorway. He looks from the corridor back to Chad with what must be a terrible deer-in-the-headlights-expression. The ash blond man perches his chin on his fist and waves him through with a nonchalant gesture as if his world won’t be turned upside down if he goes through this door. Still, Jensen goes as if an invisible string is attached to his chest, and he counts the doors until he’s reached number five, settling uneasily in front of it. The light of the keypad still blinks red, but it’s only a couple of seconds before the lock turns with an audible click as the light switches to green, indubitably telling the person inside that someone is coming to this door.

 

Jensen pushes at the steel door tentatively, but it doesn’t take much force to open, and suddenly the room’s laid out in front of him, riddled with shadows that veil the things that are stored within those four walls. He can’t make out anyone in the room, but the moment he takes his first step over the threshold, a voice growls from the far wall.

“That’s it, baby. Now, don’t forget to close the door behind you and take off your shoes, before you come into the living room.”

Jensen thinks about bolting right there. Jared has made his point, but he doesn’t have to go through with it. He can say no to this now, walk out and never look back.

“Lose the socks too, and your shirt, while you’re at it.”

That’s when Jensen notices that he’s already toed off his shoes, just as the door falls closed with a resounding thump, shutting off the outside world for good.

 

These black-outs between Jared saying something, and Jensen coming to himself divested of half his clothes have to stop, they really do. Jensen wants to pretend that his body’s just moving on autopilot, that Jared has him mesmerized, under some kind of spell, spiked his drink with something to make him comply, but the denial falls flat even right there inside his head. A glaring spotlight comes on at the other end of the room and blinds him, before he has the chance to avert his eyes. He has had his share of experience with these kinds of stage lights and knows how to handle them, but if you're looking directly into it when it goes on, there’s going to be spots flicking over your vision for the next couple of minutes, no matter what. Jensen tries to shake off the disorientation as fast as he can, and even though he knows it’s exactly what Jared intended, he loses his footing completely, when a hand closes around his arm out of the blue. Jared drags him, stumbling awkwardly, to the middle of the room, where he rounds on Jensen with bared teeth.

“So, you think you can deny me?”

Jensen doesn’t really know what Jared’s on about, but he feels his knees buckle with the sudden urge to placate the man. It’s maddening as hell! Since when has boot-licking been programmed into his brain? Pain flares up through body when his knees crash to the hard floor, and he suddenly looks up miles of defined muscle and glistening skin. Jared is wearing leather pants himself and nothing else.

 

Jensen feels his mouth fall open, and his heart rate speed up, because, suddenly, he wants nothing more than to lick that glorious expanse of skin. Jared cocks his head slightly, like his reaction to the harsh welcome is entirely unexpected, but his expession is veiled, and Jensen can’t tell what the searching eyes read from his face. It’s ridiculous how attuned he is to the other man’s body language, as if the mere shifting of weight is an encrypted order in and of itself. The really heady thing though is how Jared reacts to _him_. And suddenly, his position feels less submissive, and more powerful, like he can get anything he wants if he just… yields.

“You are fascinating, you know that? All contradictions, one second you’re all fight and denial, and the next you act like you know the game inside out. I should be thinking up ways to punish you for your insolent text, and instead all I can do is imagine all the ways I want to use your mouth right now.”

Jared’s huge hand clasps around Jensen’s jaw and drags it open a little wider.

 

“I really should, you know, stuff you so full with it that you can’t breathe, until spit and come and tears run all over your face. Fucking made for it, baby; you’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d choke on it and love it all the same.”

Jensen feels his eyes widen, and a nervous flutter settles in his belly that is both anxiety and anticipation. Jared’s words paint a lucid picture in his head, and right there he remembers that he's never thought of treating another man’s cock that way. The flutter turns into a ball of cold dread. He jerks his face out of Jared’s grip with an ungraceful motion, and the momentum makes him topple over into a heap at Jared’s feet. He tries to scramble backwards, with dragging elbows and scuffing feet, further away from Jared, who just follows him with glinting eyes. Pure fear runs through Jensen’s mind, and he flails around until he’s on hands and knees, trying to put distance between him and the other man as fast as he can. His panicky brain doesn’t register the footsteps, but Jared must have followed him, because a strong hand suddenly seizes his ankle and tugs to make him fall over. Jensen is dragged all the way back, the rough concrete floor abrading the sensitive skin on his torso, while his fingers futilely scramble for purchase on the even surface.

 

“Oh, baby, don’t be like that. We just got started; you don’t want to leave the party early, do you?”

When Jared stops and lets go of his foot, Jensen tries to turn around and take a swing at the other man, but his fist is caught once again, and suddenly he finds both arms wrenched behind his back, wrists crossed and held down by Jared’s powerful one-handed grip and about half of his weight. Jensen thrashes around, but the height and muscle that Jared has on him make it impossible to break free from this position if the other man has no intention of letting him up. On the contrary, Jared’s settling down between his legs, spreading Jensen’s thighs wider with his knees. His chuckle sounds predatory and triumphant in Jensen’s ears, and, just like that, Jared’s wrested every sliver of control back from him, laying him out prone and vulnerable.

“I told you, this is about driving you to the edge. Making you do things you never even thought about in the first place.”

Jared’s hand gently strokes lines over his back where the whip marks have been faded into nothing for a few days now. Still, he seems perfectly capable of tracing them as if he has Jensen’s entire back mapped out in his imagination. Jensen lets him and tries to get his labored breathing under control, because he’s close to hyperventilating, and he's in danger of losing consciousness if he doesn’t calm the fuck down. And who knows what Jared will come up with if he does that?

 

As he breathes more slowly through the receding panic, under the gentle, teasing touch, the sensation tickles something in the back of his head. It’s like ghost fingers trailing over his back and arms, rubbing soothing circles onto the skin, until his breath comes easier, and Jensen shakes his head slightly to get rid of the cobwebs. He’s sure that Jared’s never touched him that way. He shouldn’t trust the man to lay even one finger on him, but yet here he is, settling underneath the oppression as if it’s what keeps him sane all day long. His train of thought, however, is cut short, when Jared’s hand grips the back of his neck, dragging him up and pulling his back into a painful arch, while the man leans down to whisper into his ear.

“So there, are you quite done now?”

Jensen’s breath hitches, when the strong fingers press in harder, but he manages a short nod.

“Good, because while watching you battling it out in your own head is hilarious, it gets _us_ nowhere. I’ve proven with my actions that I can take care of you, haven’t I? Just stop thinking so much and let me worry about the rest.”

Jensen frowns a little, because he wouldn’t exactly call what Jared has done to him so far ‘taking care’, but he doesn’t get to finish the thought, before he’s wrenched upwards by his arms with a force that’s just shy of dislocating his shoulders. He lets out a low moan at the rough treatment, but follows more actively, when Jared makes him get to his feet. Feeling the hot breath on his neck, which indicates that Jared’s still standing very much in his personal space, Jensen anticipates the next move.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to walk you over to the wall, where we have a little something waiting for us, and you’re going to let me tie you up nice and tight. Understood?”

 

He doesn’t wait for Jensen’s response, but starts walking immediately, pushing Jensen into a stumble to keep him off balance. When they stop a few strides later, Jensen finds himself facing the wall, and a strange construction – two wooden planks that have been crossed to form an ‘X’ with several bindings attached at different levels. He instinctively tightens his balled fists at the sight, but doesn’t move a muscle otherwise, when Jared takes one of his arms to tie it securely to the wood. Jensen knows that if he fights now, Jared will just throw him forward bodily and cage him with his weight, until he’s had his will, and the repercussions for such a defiance would be dire. For just a moment Jensen contemplates trying to make a break for it anyway. When his other wrist is secured with the smooth leather bonds, Jensen has to close his eyes at the flashes that start up in the back of his mind at the familiar position. His breath speeds up against his will again, but this time it’s not panic that riddles this thoughts, but quite the opposite. There’s very little difference between those sensations though, and it makes Jensen’s head spin to think about it.

 

When Jared is satisfied that the bindings are tight but not cutting off his circulation, he smooths his hands down Jensen’s arms, over his back, around on his belly and to the waistband of Jensen’s pants, leaving shivers in his wake. Jensen feels long fingers deftly opening the fly of his pants, but Jared doesn’t dip in right away this time like he did on their first night. Instead he draws back completely, and Jensen hears him step away a few paces, presumably to admire his handiwork. He keeps his eyes fixed on the wall, unwilling to let himself be goaded into looking around to make sure Jared hasn’t left him hanging there. Instead, he decides to issue a challenge by laciviously sliding his feet apart a little more. The hitching breath that reaches his ears, tells Jensen that the scales have just dipped in his favor. Suddenly, he realizes that he needs to shut off his brain and trust his instincts more. All doubts and reservations aside, he remembers the blinding orgasm from their first encounter with perfect clarity. Ultimately, Jensen’s back here, because anything less doesn't cut it any more, and the craving to feel like that again grows with every second that goes by. Out of the blue, hands snake around his side, viciously clawing into his chest right and left, blunt thumbnails dragging harshly over his nipples.

“What did I say about getting lost in your own head? I require a bit of your attention if this is going to work, you know? Can’t have you running off inside your thoughts like that.”

While Jensen still gasps from pain - _pleasure -_ Jared moves to forcefully wrench his pants down to mid-thigh in one fluid move. Then his hands wander shamelessly over Jensen’s exposed backside, kneading the tense muscles, while Jensen is suddenly very aware of the sweat that pools at the dip of his spine.

 

“You have a spectacular ass… which I didn’t devote nearly enough time to the other night. That will have to change now.”

Jensen wants to snark back that of course he has a spectacular ass, he works hard enough for it, thank you very much. But before he has the chance to blunder his way past Jared's rules like that, Jared parts his cheeks and licks a wet stripe from behind his balls right up over his hole. The sensation sets nerve endings on fire in places Jensen didn’t even know he had, and his fingers skitter uncontrollably over the slippery wood, seeking for purchase, something - _anything -_  to hold onto. The feeling is dirty and revolting.  Jared eats him out like he would a girl’s pussy, teeth and tongue scraping over furled skin. When Jensen actually feels Jared’s tongue breach him, it’s too much, and he arches away with all that’s in him, canting his hips to wriggle to the side, tugging at the bonds around his wrists with all his might. Jared, however, completely ignores his efforts, holding his hips in a vice-like grip, nails digging into his sensitive skin to leave crescent marks. The little spikes of pain are enough to drive Jensen wild, with all the nerves firing, and yet no outlet for the energy. He starts thrashing for real. Guttural groans from deep inside turn his voice hoarse and husky. Finally, Jared lets up and moves away, though his grip never wavers on Jensen’s hips.

“Don’t worry, baby, you’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you right where I want you. God, you have no idea what a pretty picture you make, trussed up like that, taking it against your will. By the time we’re through, I’m gonna have turned you inside out, I promise.”

 

A shiver runs down Jensen’s spine at the words, because that’s what he does, right? He takes it like a good little bitch. He should fight; he should turn the tables;, he should be able to tell Jared where to shove it good and proper, and instead he’s right here, displaying his naked ass like it’s an offering to the gods. He’s a man for fuck’s sake! He should act like one and not like a bitch in heat. Blinding fury rips through Jensen - at himself for not manning up already - at Jared for making him incapable of it, with his voice, and his eyes, and his muscles and his hands, God, his hands…

“Oh, did I hit a nerve there? I’m sorry, baby. Don’t be cross. If you’re all tense like that, the next part is going to hurt a lot more than in has to, really.”

This time Jensen actually turns around to glare at Jared with all he has and recoils instantly when he finds the other man’s face a lot closer than he was expecting. He hadn’t even noticed that Jared had risen, and now the other man is right in his face, with that intense stare that seems to pierce right through Jensen and into the deepest recesses of his mind. Unfortunately, the distraction is enough that Jensen doesn’t realize what Jared’s doing with his fingers, until he’s knuckle deep inside Jensen already. The sursprise catches Jensen unawares, which makes the first inch easy, but the coldness of the lube, and the shock of the intrusion hits him a second later, and his muscles seize up right as Jared pushes in further.

 

A keening wail makes it past his gnashed teeth, for it hurts even with the slick to ease the way, and it’s also the strangest feeling all over. Jared moves more delicately now, but Jensen can’t seem to bring himself to relax into the slick slide in and out. Chuckling a little, Jared finally bends down to catch Jensen’s lips in a teasing kiss, drawing it out from chaste to open-mouthed in lazy, generous movements that distract him somewhat from what’s going on below the belt. That is until Jared’s tongue swipes into his mouth with small stabbing motions, and Jensen wonders for a moment at the peculiar taste, until he realizes exactly _where_ this tongue’s just been. His eyes fly open, and he bites down on instinct, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but enough that Jared wrenches his lips away suddenly and rounds on him with bared teeth and stormy eyes. The look makes all blood drain out of Jensen’s face, before Jared lets out a low hiss.

“What the hell was that? Do you really _want_ to try my patience that way? We have an agreement, don’t we? I give it to you and you _take it.!”_

Without warning he draws back and thrusts a second finger in right alongside the first.

 

It _burns_.

The ache radiates out to his belly, and all the way up his spine, it has Jensen literally on his toes to get away from the burning pain. His breathing’s labored from the effort to keep from screaming, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, which he blinks away furiously, but he can’t quite stifle the sob that escapes between his lips. He’s never felt more humiliated in his entire life, because he just can’t seem to be able to get his reactions under control. Strangely enough, the pain becomes bearable after a few moments, even though it was vicious at first, but the display he's putting on is just pathetic for the guy who’s supposed to have the straightest face in fucking Hollywood. His preoccupied thoughts are the reason he doesn’t notice at first how Jared is… babbling, like he's never had even a hint of steely authority in his voice, and the realization throws Jensen off more than he thought possible.

“Jesus, Jensen. I’m sorry, baby, this isn’t…. I’m not supposed to forget myself like that, that’s such a rookie mistake…”

Jared presses his forhead against Jensen’s shoulder to hide his face, mumbling ‘sorrys’ into his skin, slinging his left arm around his chest to pull him close. Jensen’s left reeling, with no idea what to do next. It’s true, it hurt like hell – he might have never done this before, and he knows that this could have gone a lot more smoothly for a first time. But Jared pulling the rug from underneath his feet like that is not something he’s ready to process. He trusted Jared to do what he wants, trusted Jared to _hurt_ him, trusted Jared to be _the strong one._ Instead they are here, suspended in a moment in time, and Jensen has absolutely no clue how to go on.

It’s bizarre how things can change from one second to the next. It shouldn’t be surprising, since, in the end, a second is just another arbitrary measure that time will completely ignore as it goes on, but when it feels like the world is crashing down around you it’s still pretty damn noticible. Jensen knows that the ball is in his court right now, and yet nobody's handed him the rulebook..  Still, he’s an intelligent man, he should be able to figure something out, right?

Looking at what Jared has done, Jensen’s a little puzzled at his massive reaction, since he obviously had no qualms about taking a whip pretty damn close to Jensen’s balls last time, and if he’d hit him…

But that’s just it, isn’t it? He didn’t, because Jared’s every move is calculated and controlled. It has to be for him to be able to push past Jensen’s limits – he’s got to have a tight handle on his own.

He has to prove time and again that Jensen’s trust is not misplaced, and to lose control like that, to violate Jensen’s confidence in him to the point of losing that trust…. Yeah, he can see how the prospect might be pretty damn scary. It also makes Jensen realize that Jared is _invested_ in this thing they have here, even though you can barely call it a relationship, and that he doesn’t want to fuck it up. The thought is… kind of endearing really.

 

Still, that doesn’t do squat to help Jensen decide what to do next, but he knows it’s on him to call it off or get them back on the rails now… somehow. It all comes down to what he wants, right here, right now. Jensen shifts his weight a little, and, why… even with all the babbling and flailing, Jared seems to have forgotten that he’s still got his fingers _stuck up his ass._ Also, since nobody’s moved for what.. several minutes, Jensen’s muscles have had time to adjust, and it really doesn’t hurt much anymore. Instead it's starting to feel pretty damn interesting now that he thinks about it. Suddenly, a deep belly laugh works its way up Jensen’s throat. He wants to throw his head back and holler about the irony of it all, but he knows that if he lets it all out now, he’ll break down in hysterics, and that will be the end of it. He reins it in instead and only chuckles a little before turning to nuzzle the side of Jared’s face where it's still pressed into the crook of his neck. The other man is startled by the sudden touch and draws back until they’re eye to eye again. Jensen holds his own in their staring match, eyes flitting over Jared’s handsome face, laying him open for once, searching for something he can’t quite name.

They’re a strange pair, really, and it totally should not work.

 

Regardless, Jensen finds himself wanting. Craving what Jared can give him, even if it pushes him out of his comfort zone in so many ways. So he decides to be the one to do the taking for once, putting the world right side up again. He angles his head slightly and moves in to caress Jared’s lips with a tentative brush of his mouth.

_I forgive you._

Jensen lets his eyes fall shut when Jared responds, pushing back into a familiar rhythm that stokes the heat in Jensen’s belly. He should be appalled at his own behavior, opening himself up so wantonly now, when his surprised rebuke was what got them into trouble in the first place. But right now, he just wants to feel good, even if that means that he has to shove his tongue into Jared’s filthy mouth to get his point across.

_Get the fuck on with it already._

As their making out gets more enthusiastic, Jensen feels Jared’s fingers twitch, moving slightly before they suddenly brush against something inside him. It sets every nerve ending on fire, making Jensen’s eyes fly wide open, and he has to break their kiss to gasp for a breath that turns into a garbled moan. Jared chuckles into his ear and whispers:

“Yes, baby, that’s it… gonna let me make it alright again, are you? Gonna let me make it up to you so good.”

Jensen nods frantically. He’s prepared to let Jared do just about anything right now if only he will just do that twisty thing that… _oh God, right there._

 

Jared works him into a frenzy fast, twisting and spreading his fingers, pushing the pain further away with each brush over that incredible place that’s been there in Jensen’s body all his life without anyone ever telling him about it. He squirms and wriggles, circling his hips in a desperate attempt to get some friction on his untouched cock, but it’s no use, since he has no leverage against the bonds holding him in place.

“You are glorious, you know that? And all mine. Never gonna let anyone else do this to you, are you?”

Jensen barely hears the words that come out of Jared’s mouth, understanding only about half of them. He nods enthusiastically anyway if it will only ensure that Jared doesn’t sto…

“Wow, you really like that do you? I’m still going to have to punish you though, we didn’t get around to that yet.”

A shiver rakes down Jensen’s body as he wonders what Jared will use this time.

“ _But,_ I think I have just the thing to make it a little more interesting. Be right back.”

 

A distressed whimper passes Jensen’s lips when Jared withdraws his fingers completely. He wants to yell that being left cold and open like that is certainly punishment enough, and Jared is to come over and get cracking right this instant, but he manages to keep it down to little, disapproving moans and frustratedly flexing his fists. He doesn’t really notice that Jared’s back, before a slick, cold touch is back at his entrance, and, damn, Jared’s really not one to warm the lube up before putting it good use. When Jensen feels the breach a second later, it’s definitely not Jared’s fingers that slide back inside, it’s something solid and just a little bit wider than the fingers that stretched him. It’s tight, but stings only a little with all the slick easing the way. However, Jensen has to indulge his curiosity, risking a glance over his back. When he sees the light blue butt plug slowly disappear between his cheeks out of the corner of his eye, the feeling suddenly gets that much more real. He feels like the air’s been punched out of his lungs, and he screws up his eyes, desperately trying to stay relaxed under the relentless pressure building inside. Jensen takes panting breaths through his gritted teeth and tries to will away the blush that started to work its way up his neck the moment he looked back. The most humiliating thing however, is the way his cock is twitching against his belly, spilling precome onto his skin with every inch the toy slides further inside his body.

 

When the whole length of it is inside of him, Jensen feels Jared’s hands on him, grasping the globes of his ass to squeeze and massage them in a way that ellicites deep grunts. Finally, Jared draws his nails down his cheeks savagely, just shy of breaking skin.

“Now… I’m going to take the cane to your backside like a teacher should when a student misbehaves. If you dare to come during the first five, I’m going to make it ten.”

Jensen trembles at the delicious threat in Jared’s voice, and he tries to brace himself.

Once again, the first one hits him out of the blue, but nothing could have prepared him for the sparks that fly across his vision as the hard wooden length of the cane strikes right across his buttocks, the force of the blow driving the plug right into _that_ spot. Jensen screams as pain and pleasure mix to make fireworks go off in his brain.

 

Jared takes his sweet time between the blows, but not enough to give Jensen the chance to come down completely. When the third one strikes the sensitive flesh right over his thighs, Jensen’s face is wet with the tears that run out of his eyes unchecked. With the fourth one it’s all he can do to stave of his building orgasm, while the muscles in his thighs tremble from the exertion of keeping him upright. He prays that he’ll make it through the fifth one, because there’s no way he can take ten. The slap of wood against skin sounds unnaturally loud in his ears, and the pain underneath the pleasure is the only thing that helps him hold it together by the skin of his teeth.

 

Relief lifts his spirits with each labouring breath when Jared’s hand smoothes down his shoulderblade slowly, soothingly, and his voice sounds from behind him:

“That was amazing, baby, and now you'll let go just for me?”

Jensen has no idea if it’s one or two more, before he goes over the edge right there, shaken to the core and thrashing uncontrollably against his bonds. He comes down from his climax with heaving breaths, sparks flying through his vision, and Jared’s chest pressed tightly against his back. He feels the other man undo his pants, before he slides his erection right between Jensen’s cheeks, thrusting against him at a merciless pace. Jensen arches his spine and presses back against Jared, despite the protests of his aching muscles and the burn of his heated skin, but he can’t quell the pitiful whimpers that slip past his lips every time the movement jostles the toy inside him. It fires up his oversentizised nerves to a point where he can barely take it anymore. When it finally becomes too much, he feels Jared grasp his hips in a bruising grip and come undone behind him, come splattering against his back.

 

After a moment of working his brain through the aftershocks, Jensen’s turn to jelly and give out under him, and he has no energy to stop them, even though it puts a terrible strain on his arms. Jared catches hold of him  with an arm across his chest and instantly moves to undo the cuffs around his wrists. The movement makes the muscles in his arms scream, because they’ve stayed suspended for such a long time, and Jensen bites back a moan, while Jared gently lets them down to sit sprawled on the floor. They’re still back to chest, and Jensen lets his head fall back onto Jared’s shoulder as the other man smoothes his strong hands down Jensen’s arms, massaging the circulation back to normal, until he clasps Jensen's hands, fingers weaving into each other. For a few moments it’s just them breathing against each other, racing heartbeats slowly calming down, and Jared’s gentle kisses against the side of Jensen’s neck. Finally Jared lets go and leans to the side, where he procures a wet washcloth from somewhere. The water obviously isn’t warm, but even though the coolness sends goosebumps all over Jensen’s skin, it feels nice when Jared begins cleaning him front and back with delicate motions. He only hisses slightly when Jared pulls the plug out of his body in one smooth movement, leaving his muscles loose and sore, but instantly soothed by a careful touch.

 

Jensen sighs wordlessly, melting into the ministrations, until Jared’s voice next to his ear startles him.

“You can speak now; you know that, right?”

Jensen turns to meet glinting eyes and a mischievious smile.

“Huh?”

“Oh, very eloquent, baby. You got anything more interesting to say?”

Jensen answers with a puzzled frown at first, before gets that Jared is serious.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Ah,” Jared strokes his flanks absent-mindedly, “I see, you’d rather be coddled and pampered, right? I should have known that you’d want your creature comforts, just like last time.”

Jensen’s frown deepens as he tries to make sense of what Jared is refering to. He shifts his legs so he can turn to face Jared, doing up his fly quickly, because he suddenly feels self-conscious.

“I… what? What are you talking about?”

Jared meets his eyes with an incredulous look.

“What am I…? Why this of course, getting you calmed down and cleaned up, just like I did on our first night. You remember that, don’t you?”

Jensen’s feels his eyes widen, because there was no such thing last ti…

“Shit, you really don’t, do you? This is just as much a part of the game as the whips and chains. Dear Lord, you’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

Jared smiles fondly at Jensen’s dumbfounded expression and reaches out to lay his fingertips against Jensen's temple and smoothes them down to his jaw with the lightest of touches. The intimacy that suddenly springs up between them with that single caress makes Jensen’s throat close up, because Jared’s eyes say that he doesn’t want anyone else to ever touch him like this. It’s terrifying in its intensity, and for a moment it’s too much… Jensen moves back half an inch to put some distance between them, but he has to swallow and breathe deeply, before he can force the words past his throat to break the spell.

“I… I have to go. Now.”

 

He gets up on wobbly legs and makes his way to the door to scramble for the rest of his clothes, half wishing for Jared to turn around and stop him, but the other man lets him go without another word. Jensen gives Chad only a harried look as he hurries past on his way to the door, calling the car instantly. The whole drive home is agony, because there’s really no good way to avoid sitting down in the car short of kneeling on the floor between the seats, and that’s so undignified that Jensen’s not even thinking about it. He has no idea though, how matters are about to worsen even as he stumbles into the comfort of his own home, dropping his keys into the bowl in the hallway. He flicks the switch for the light and almost jumps out of his skin when he turns to find Misha lounging right there in an armchair he has obviously dragged into the hallway from the living room.

“Jesus Christ, Misha, you scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing here?”

Misha fixes him with a look from his piercing blue eyes the kind of look that he gets when he thinks he’s onto something – which he is, but Jensen’s not about to spill if he can help it – and walks up to Jensen.

“I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing, Jensen?”

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you now? You’ve been off all week, irritable, and absent and the stunt you pulled with the bosses today? So not cool! Man, we can’t have you getting the reputation of being a diva like that. And on top of it, you’re suddenly unavailable the whole night, not answering your phone, not telling anybody where you’re going. And now you tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Jensen feels his face flush with guilt and embarrassment. It’s true, his behaviour was outrageous even though he couldn’t be assed to care at the time, and he should have known that Misha wouldn’t let it slide just like that. Also, he usually makes sure to send Misha at least a text if he’s going out for personal reasons – which is rare enough for a Hollywood star of his caliber – so that the other man knows not to worry, but it totally slipped his mind this time.

 

Jensen flounders around, fishing for the kind of answer that will placate Misha enough to leave him alone for at least the night, but before he can get there, the other man narrows his eyes and looks him over sharply before backing away with surprise written all over his face.

“Holy shit, you went back there, didn’t you?”

Jensen only takes half a second to smooth over his expression, but Misha knows him well enough to spot the widening of his eyes, and the tick in his jaw that confirm his suspicions.

“You _did!_ Was it the same one as last time, did you meet again on purpose? Tell me!”

Jensen just stands there gaping for a moment. He really should be used to Misha’s straight-forward brashness, and the way he tramples all over personal boundaries, but this is putting a new spin to it.

“I… It’s complicated.”

“You’re going to have to tell me about this eventually if it’s something serious, so I can get a leash on the press from the get go; you realize that?”

Jensen pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly, since the words _press_ and _serious_ are just not something he’s prepared to process right now.

“Look, Misha, I appreciate your concern, really, and I should have called. I’m fine, but I really can’t deal with this right now. Can we talk about this another time when it’s not in the middle of the night, and I’m no longer dead on my feet?”

Misha gives him a look that makes Jensen feel like he already spilled all his secrets right there, then nods and smirks as he goes to open the front door.

“Dude, you’re completely gone for it. She really did a number on you, did she?”

 

With a short pat on his shoulder, he leaves Jensen to stare at the closed door with a sinking realization in his gut. His manager and friend is great at picking up things, but the obvious presumption with which he used the pronoun ‘she’ leaves no doubt how he thinks that Jensen spends his time out there, doing all sorts of unbelievably kinky things…

… with a _man._

 

When Jensen crawls into bed that night, he lies down on his stomach and drags the pillow over his head. But he doesn’t fall asleep, before the first rays of dawn reach over the horizon.


	3. Daylight Interlude

When Jensen has something on his mind that doesn’t lead to an instant solution, he frets. He mulls it over, to and fro in his head, until there’s no new angles to look at anymore. If it hasn’t resolved itself by that time, he frets some more, which means he gets… distracted. Especially in the morning, since he’s only semi-conscious anyway, until he’s had his first three cups of coffee. His body’s used to doing pretty much the whole wake-up routine on autopilot, but when his thoughts go off the rails about something, these things get messed up, too. And he questions what it means for his self-perception that he let Jared… that he let a man do things to him… do _things_ to him, with him, whatever, well, it’s pretty damn distracting.

 

It’s how he finds himself rubbing shampoo around in his hair absent-mindedly for about five minutes, until the suds sting in his eyes, and he shivers from the cold, before turning the water back on to rinse off quickly.

It’s how he finds himself dumping half a tin of fish food into the aquarium at once and has to scramble for that little net to get the soggy mess out of the water, before he kills the fish via overfeeding. The maid that comes in to clean every other day says he should really not feed the fish anyway, he always messes up the nutritional value of something or other. It’s not like he actually has to get it. The fish were the idea of his interior designer, he just tries not to kill them dead... most of the time!

Anyway, thing is, he isn’t gay, right? Not that he has a problem with being gay in general, for well… other people.

But him, he’s had a very healthy and wholesome relationship with the female bits, ever since he was old enough to swipe his brother’s dusty old porn mags from under his bed. It might have been some time since he’s had any action with a woman, but the sparseness of meaningful relationships is an occupational hazard in his line of work, and he’s not really a guy for casual, so…

…however, his ass that he cushions with two pillows when he sits down with a steaming cup of coffee on a barstool at the kitchen counter says otherwise.

 

Jensen stirs vigorously in his cup to make the brew cool down to drinkable faster, but even the delicious smell of roasted beans that still hangs in the air can’t occupy his thoughts for more than a few seconds. His problem is not only the physical, but also the emotional evidence.

The first night could have been a simple fluke, a spontaneous bout of experimentation.

But he met Jared again, deliberately, and too much happened between them, with his approval and emotional involvement….

The feelings he has about this whole thing are a jumbled mess and deeply unsettling, while the only thing he knows for sure is the fact that he’ll go back the minute Jared calls.

The spoon clinks loudly against the rim of the cup, when Jensen lets go of it to prop his face into his hands.

He’s having an affair with a beautiful stranger.

He might be falling for someone he doesn’t even know.

 

When Jensen comes back out of his thoughts, he reaches for the cup and takes a gulp, only to spit it back into the cup a second later, sputtering all over because the stuff is ice cold and just _vile._ Mournfully, he stares at the ruined cup and wonders whether he should hate Jared for the fact that he made him let a perfectly fine cup of coffee cool down into a disgusting, congealed mess. Naomi Campbell might have Evian and anger issues, but Jensen has coffee. And it’s a sacrilege really, he’s chewed out timid PA’s for less, so he should really curse Jared into next year, but as he gets up to tip the cup down the drain, he finds that he can’t. Taking a deep breath and staring into the sink, he feels suddenly like it’s all too much, and the walls are closing in on him fast. Jensen scrambles for the car keys and his jacket, fishing around in his head for something to do that makes him leave the house.

And now, this is how he ends up grocery shopping. Even though he never does and actually avoids it like the plague.

Because, one, even with his customary disguise of ball cap and sunglasses, it’s actually not that unlikely that people will recognize him, and he doesn’t like the attention at the best of times, much less when he’s searching for his toilet paper.

Two, well, he absolutely _hates_ grocery shopping, period.

 

~*~

 

Jensen pushes the cart through the endless corridors searching for things he might need to buy, or just things he can justify having bought to keep himself out of his empty house a few minutes longer. He could of course call some friends to come over, but his good friends would instantly know that something’s off, and he really has no idea how he could talk about this with anyone. Thankfully, he’s out shopping at a time of the day when normal people are usually working, and therefore the possibility that someone will spot him is not really a big concern. As Jensen slowly makes his way down the aisles, his mind settles a little, and his thoughts calm down with the familiar task of browsing the shelves and selecting items. He’s close to the checkout counter, because really can’t pretend he's got something to do here any more, when he spots them at the other end of the aisle.

 

It’s two guys standing in front of the cheese rack, talking animatedly, and they’re really not flaunting it or anything, but Jensen’s quite sure that they’re like _together_ together. It’s only a few minute details, they’re standing too close to each other, shoulders brushing frequently, and when one walks on, their pinky fingers tangle for a moment into not quite holding hands. The blonde one, obviously the younger of the two, bends down to get something from the bottom shelf, while his partner thoroughly appreciates his backside, getting a swat against his chest when he’s caught. The blonde man turns in Jensen’s direction to look for something else and frowns suddenly. That’s when Jensen realizes that he’s been standing there _staring,_ with a carton of milk suspended in his hand over the cart the whole time. The blonde stretches to whisper something into the older man’s ear, and his partner turns to flick his eyes over to Jensen, who’s frozen on the spot. Then tall, dark and handsome pointedly slips his hand into the younger man’s back pocket, and when he looks up, his eyes say:

_Yes, this is mine, got a problem?_

 

They turn around and walk off, obviously unbothered by Jensen’s embarrassing behaviur, and when they’re out of sight, he finally manages to drop the milk into the cart. In the meantime, his thoughts are racing a mile a minute as he tries to process what he just witnessed. He’s never paid special attention to gay people’s relationships before, but the casual intimacy these guys displayed just now – and they looked neither flamboyantly twinky, nor overly butch, just like normal dudes –, well, it’s what he would have expected from any happy, committed couple. So, if being in a relationship with another man is not actually all that different,… why is it such a big deal?

Jensen takes a deep breath and grasps the handle of the cart in a shaky grip to get moving.

 

~*~

 

Jensen’s not really able to come terms with anything, but he also doesn’t have much time to sit down and think in the following week. He’s not filming right now, but that’s not exactly an equivalent for vacation time. There’s pre-production meetings, and post-production follow-ups, schedule coordination sessions, and screening dates. Misha has positively _packed_ his days, probably, because he thinks that Jensen needs to be occupied to ‘get out of his funk’ – that’s what he says when he thinks that Jensen is moping. Which he isn’t, even though Jared hasn’t called the whole week. Not that Jensen doesn’t have too much on his plate to actually keep track of that, and couldn’t possibly spare a night anyway. So he’s really not annoyed that he didn’t even get a text,  and he most definitely isn't considering calling Jared first. Bastard even put his number into Jensen’s phone, which makes him wonder just how out of it he was that first night, for Jared to get up close and personal with his most prized possession (after coffee) to program in his own fricking ringtone. It’s a song from some new shooting star or other that got famous for not winning Idol, and how fucked up is that? Jensen didn’t actually listen to it anyway, so he wouldn’t know if it’s any good. He’d probably jump right out of his skin if his phone started up doodling like that, so it’s just as well that it hasn’t.

 

Misha’s roped him into going to a premiere party tonight – which he normally refuses point-blank if he doesn’t have anything to do with the movie – but he’s been irritable all week, and he kind of owes Misha for having to put up with him in that state. Plus, he seriously needs to get out of the house and even though an evening dressed up as a penguin, mingling with the fellow A-listers and fawning starlets is not quite his idea of fun, he’ll take anything he can get just about now. So he finds his bow tie and tells the driver to drop him off at the fancy hotel that hosts the aftershow party in their exclusive bar. He makes sure that he’s a little early, the movie hasn’t been over for long, and most premiere guests haven’t arrived yet. Equally, the photographers are still mostly flocking around the theatre, and he has a chance to get into the lobby, mostly unbothered by blinding flashes. He smiles obediently into the cameras for a moment instead, answers a couple of questions about his well-being circumspectly, before getting a seat at the bar, from where he can observe the crowd without being at the centre of attention.

 

He stays there to watch them mingle, nursing his drink leisurely since he had no intention of getting smashed tonight. He’d always found it fascinating to observe homo sapiens Hollywood in its natural habitat, grinning at the antics of slightly intoxicated females and displaying males. Then a low voice sounds next to him:

“It’s a right circus, isn’t it? Is this seat taken?”

Jensen turns around to the woman who just sat down next to him without really waiting for his response. She sets her drink down on the bar and flicks her honey brown hair over her shoulder, showing off the neckline of her light red silk dress that looks like it’s been painted onto her curvaceous figure. Jensen lifts his drink for a toast before he answers:

“That it is.”

Their eyes meet over their clinking glasses for a moment, and she smiles charmingly at him, before offering her hand.

“Elaine.”

He notices how her long delicate fingers are dwarfed by his when he takes her hand.

“Jensen.”

She gets points for not answering ‘I know’, even though, at a event like this, there’s scarcely a chance that she doesn’t. Parties like this are where rich and beautiful men come to pick up rich and beautiful women… more or less. The celebrity status always makes it both easier and more complicated to figure out the motives of everyone involved, but there’s still a difference between blurting it out to your face and pretending that no one’s the wiser. After taking a sip from their drinks, they fall into effortless small talk, bonding over how they both are sometime exasperated at the social folly that is the glamor world.

 

Jensen finds himself laughing freely at Elaine’s jibes over the third or fourth drink, a lot more buzzed than he had anticipated being, but also pleasantly surprised about how much he’s enjoying the evening.

“You’ve got cute little crinkles around your eyes when you laugh; did you know?”

Jensen smiles and throws back the rest of his drink.

“So I’ve been told.”

Elaine leans in, lowering her smooth, alto voice so only he can hear her.

“I have to say I didn’t expect to have such a good time tonight.”

“Me neither.”

“So, I’m not normally this straight forward, but…” her broad smile belies her words as she continues,”… you wanna get out of here, get a room?”

Jensen is stumped for a moment, though it really shouldn’t surprise him like that, given what the whole encounter has been leading up to from the start, but he finds himself hanging by a thread all of the sudden. He doesn’t hook up like that, especially not when his emotions are all over the place, like right now, but he really likes Elaine, and as he looks into her open, beautiful face, he thinks what the hell. He’s an adult, and he should be allowed to have fun with a woman whose company he enjoys, no strings attached.

“I’m going to take care of that. You finish up your drink and meet me at the elevators in five?”

Her eyes sparkle at him and she reaches for her glass.

“I’ll be there. It was nice meeting you Mr. Ross, hope to see you soon.”

Jensen smiles, nods at her and leaves a few notes on the bar for the drinks, before he makes his way through the crowd. Once he’s out in the lobby, he wonders what the fuck he thinks he’s doing.

 

True to form, Elaine arrives at the elevators just as Jensen pushes the call button. She stops about three feet away from him to give the impression that they’re just a couple of guests on the way back to their rooms – separately. Jensen appreciates the discretion, because the last thing he needs right now is a trashy photo and the story about his new ‘lady-friend’ in the yellow press. Elaine makes a game of it all the way up to the room, throwing him covert glances and secretive smiles. Suddenly, Jensen can’t wait to get there to do something drastic to that treacherous dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. When they finally arrive at the room, Jensen is already loosening his tie as he swipes the key card and opens the door. Elaine barely has a chance to step through the door before he grips her arm and drags her against his body, kicking the door shut in the process. He captures her lips in a savage kiss that tastes like strawberry lipgloss and crowds her into the room, towards the bed. She gives as good as she gets though, dragging his tie off and ripping his shirt open. They fall into bed, Jensen’s hands on her ass, and her breasts pressed against his chest. As their making out gets more intense, Jensen catches himself wishing that she’d just take his hands off her breasts already to pin them over his head. Jensen opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling and wonders why something feels _off_ all of a sudden. The physical attraction is not the problem, his cock is still very much interested in the assets that are displayed in front of him.

But the kiss tastes like… betrayal.

 

Once the realization hits him, Jensen turns his head away and puts his hand on her shoulder to get some distance between them.

“Wait, wait,… stop, please, stop… I… I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Elaine takes a second to process what he’s on about, and then she sits up, looking at him incredulously.

“Is there a problem? I didn’t get the impression.”

Jensen scoots up to sit at the edge of the bed and rakes his hands through his hair before turning to look at her over his shoulder.

“No, no problem. I… I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean… but I just can’t.”

“Can I know why?”

Jensen hesitates, unsure how to answer the question, but he takes a deep breath.

“I… there’s someone else. I’m sorry.”

He sees hurt flit over her face for a moment, but then she studies him a little and huffs like she read more from his expression than he knows about the mess in his own head.

“I see. Well, I have to say, that is one lucky lady.”

He wants to laugh hysterically and decides to put his head into his hands instead.

“You have no idea.”

“Mind if I have my post-coital smoke as a non-coital smoke right now?”

Jensen waves his hand in a ‘go-ahead’ kind of gesture, and he feels the bed dip when she gets up to locate her clutch. He hears the balcony door slide open, and the snick of the lighter, before a whiff of smoke catches in his nose.

 

“If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look terribly happy for a guy who just realized he’d give up _this,_ because he has someone in his life that he wants more.”

He turns around to see her leaning against the door jamb of the balcony with her elbow propped up with one hand and the cigarette in the other. He still thinks she’s incredibly beautiful, but suddenly that doesn’t seem to matter so much anymore.

“It’s not that easy.”

“That’s what they all say. Wanna talk about it? Sometimes that helps make things less complicated. I think you owe me for cheating me out of what I know would have been a perfectly good orgasm, or two.”

That makes him laugh, and the tension inside him eases a little when she smiles back. Now she feels like a female version of Misha to him. Lots prettier, just as deadpan.

“It’s… well, it’s complicated… and very recent.”

“Glad to hear that I wasn't about to butcher a two-year-relationship.”

“God, no… but the thing we have could be called… unorthodox.”

“Ah,” she says and takes a drag, blowing the smoke out into the night, “and that’s a problem?”

“No, not at all, it’s just… I’m not sure we could handle the ordinary part of a relationship. And I’m not even sure we’re on the same page there.”

 

“So, basically you’re saying that you have no idea if something will come of it, even if you try?”

Jensen nods and hangs his head.

“But you want to.”

He holds his breath and lets his thoughts swirl aimlessly for a moment.

“Yeah, I really want to.”

The whisper is so quiet that he can barely hear himself. He jumps when he feels a hand on his elbow, dragging him up to stand. Elaine looks at him for a moment and then starts doing up the buttons of his shirt.

“Well… then there’s only one thing left to do, is there?”

Jensen stares down at her bowed head and doesn’t know how to tell her how grateful he is. She turns away and jots something down onto a bit of hotel stationary, before folding it up and sliding it into his jacket pocket.

“You know, I still had a really good time tonight. If you ever want to have a more meaningful talk… in a café, not in the bedroom… Call me, all right?”

With that she kisses the corner of his mouth lightly and then unceremoniously shoves him out of the room with a mischievous grin and a wink.

 

On the way down in the elevator, Jensen leans against the wall, emotionally exhausted, but cautiously optimistic. It’s hardly believable just how much has happened tonight, but it seems like he's gained a friend, and a bit of insight.

No matter what actually comes out at the other end, he’s willing to rock his whole world.

For Jared.


	4. Third Night

When Jensen gets up in the morning, the world hasn’t actually turned upside down. Actually, he’s kind of surprised about how calm he feels now, even though he confirmed during the past night that he definitely might be a little bit gay after all. He figures it’s because things have fallen into place, instead of hanging in the air, and he has a goal now, a resolution. The thought is freeing, even though the can of worms that this might upend all over his life terrifies him in no uncertain terms. What he said the night before still stands though. For the first time in years, he truly wants to try, even if the chances of getting it to actually work are slim at best. The prospect makes him smile nonetheless.

However, he hasn’t worked up the courage to call Jared yet.

 

Texted Elaine though, thanking her for being awesome, and the most understanding woman on the planet. She sends him a smiley and calls him a girl for checking in already after only a day. He writes back that she helped that one along a lot, thanks very much. She answers that he better not show his face again, until he’s sealed the deal. Jensen laughs at that and replies with a saluting smiley. Then he calls Misha and asks him whether he wants to go for coffee in the afternoon, just them, no business, something they haven’t really done in quite some time. Misha’s all for it, and they agree to meet at Jensen’s favourite coffee spot later.

 

~*~

 

Jensen blinds Misha with a terrific smile once he enters the coffee shop where the other man is already waiting.

“Hoo, Jensen, what the hell did they put into your second cup of coffee this morning? Did you get laid last night?”

Jensen cringes inside, but the shop is bustling with the after-work crowd already, and it’s unlikely that people can hear Misha over the hustle and bustle. He decides to not leave the other man hanging while they’re waiting for their order.

“As a matter of fact, I did not,” Jensen answers with the cheeriest of tones.

Misha looks at him like he’s lost his marbles.

“Seriously? And that’s a GOOD thing?”

“Yeah… actually. Strange as that sounds, but it’s a good thing. I figured some things out last night.”

“And…?”

“You know that thing that has had me on pins and needles and down everybody’s throats for two weeks now?”

Misha nods solemnly, just as their order arrives. and they take care of that, before Jensen goes on.

“Well, the situation’s difficult. There’s some… issues I had to work through, but I think I’ve got it figured out now. I’m going to try for serious.”

Misha whips around to him, wide-eyed, almost sloshing the hot liquid he’d been blowing on over the rim of his paper cup.

“You are? For real?”

Jensen nods slightly taking a little sip that is more of a whiff from his cup to hide his blush.

“I’m… well, that’s big, man. Congrats though. And it also means that you get to tell me _all_ about it.”

“I don’t know how much I can tell you yet, honestly, I haven’t even… I don’t wanna jinx it, alright? I’m going to tell you as soon as I know where it’s going, I promise!” Though Jensen knows that there will be a whole new level of freak-out involved with telling Misha the truth. So not thinking about it right now!

Misha looks sharply at him for a moment, but then he smiles and claps Jensen on the shoulder.

“Seriously, man. You amaze me. When I thought I’d never see the day anymore… but you look happy.”

Jensen turns to walk out of the store slowly.

“Yeah well… I kinda am. Let’s go out, see if we can get a table?”

 

When they step outside onto the sidewalk, there’s of course not one table free, but the couple in the corner look like they might be wrapping things up soon. Jensen doesn’t mind waiting a couple of minutes; the coffee’s still too hot to really drink it anyway, and Misha’s happily prattling on about his morning’s endeavours. That’s when Jensen hears it, from the right, out of the steady stream of people passing by. The deep, throaty laugh that comes unmistakably out of Jared’s mouth. His body turns at once, naturally drawn to the source of the sound,  even though his mind is all hung up on the impossibility of meeting Jared out here right now, of all places and times. He opens his mouth to call out for Jared to turn around, because he obviously walked by the shop just two seconds before he and Misha stepped through the door. The words get caught in his throat when he spots Jared though.

Jared, whose incredible height and width parts the crowd in front of him.

Who is walking along next to a petite brunette that looks like he could snap her like a twig with one hand.

Jared, who bumps their shoulders lightly before wrapping an arm around her.

…

Jared, who leans down to whisper something in her ear that makes her laugh out loud, pressing a kiss to her temple, before the crowd surges back around them, hiding them from sight.

 

Jensen stands there unmoving, staring ahead sightlessly as coldness seeps into his chest.

He doesn’t notice the paper cup slipping through his numb fingers, crashing to the ground to splash hot liquid all over his shoes and pants. The world crunches to halt for a moment, before turning again in slow motion. His vision is blurry, sounds muted, until a hand falls on his arm. A searing touch that makes him flinch like he’s been burnt. Suddenly the world is back, right in his face, colours too bright, human voices chattering away in an unbearable cacophony. Misha’s face frowning in front of him, his worried voice floating somewhere in the mix, but Jensen can’t answer, he needs to get out of here and find some peace and quiet, fast. He fends off Misha’s hands and turns around, walking, going nowhere except just away with brisk steps, letting the crowd swallow him, until he can’t hear the other man’s calls anymore.

He has to go away, find a place where the world is right side up again.

 

~*in*~*coming*~*call*~

 

The phone rings two times, three, before the call connects and a smooth baritone answers:

“Hello?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you like that, my name is Misha Collins. I’m a friend of Jensen’s, and I need to talk to the owner of this phone.”

“How did you get this number?”

“Stole Jensen’s phone log via bluetooth. But that’s irrelevant, I really have to talk to the girl who owns this phone about a very important matter. Can you please, please put her on?”

“Listen, my name is Jared Padalecki. And I _am_ the owner of this phone.”

Seconds tick by in complete silence.

“Ho boy…”

“…”

“…”

“Misha? Are you still there?”

“I… what?... Yes, yes, sorry, just needed to sit down there for a moment.”

The laughter is evident in the answer.

“Jensen didn’t tell you much about me, did he?”

“No… I… no, he really didn’t, although you think he might have mentioned _THAT.”_

“I figured. So anyway, what’s happened that made you call me?”

“I… I thought he might have come to you, but if you don’t know about it, then… Look, we were out for coffee this afternoon, talking. One minute he turns around, spotting something, and the next he looks like his dog just got hit by a car. Turned around on me and walked off, vanished into the crowd without another word.”

“I’m sorry, but he isn’t here either. I haven’t heard from him all week.”

“Crap. I have no idea what he saw, but man, it sure didn’t make the angels sing. And he was happy the moment before, told me he’d figured something out last night. Now, it’s been over two hours, and I have no idea where he is. He’s not answering his cell, and it looks like the sky is going to open up any minute.”

“I see. Alright, don’t worry, I’m going to find him.”

The call disconnects before Misha even has the chance to open his mouth. He takes the phone away from his ear and looks at it as if it will spew all the wisdom of the universe back at him in a second.

“Well, fuck _me.”_

 

~*dail*~*ing*~*tone*~

 

Jensen is walking. He thinks he has been for some time now, although he’s not quite clear about that. Somewhere down the road he vaguely remembers that it started pouring water from the sky, but that didn’t really keep him from walking, so he didn’t stop. He doesn’t quite remember why he’s got to be walking in the first place, so he slows and comes to a halt. When Jensen becomes aware of his surroundings again, he instantly wraps his arms tightly around his middle, since he’s soaked to the bone, and the chill that is settling in his limbs is suddenly much more noticable. The water on his face is warm though, and he wonders about that, because it shouldn’t be, should it?

He looks around himself and finds that he has absolutely no idea where he’s ended up. It’s an arched stone bridge that is not broad enough for a car and it stretches over a channel. He tries to figure out what to do next, but every bit of energy suddenly seems drained out of him, so he leans his elbows onto the carved stone railing to relieve his aching feet and stares into the slowly swirling current underfoot. Jensen knows he should move, because if he stays here much longer, he’s going to make himself seriously ill, but he can’t find it in him to take another step. Distantly he hears a motor rumble, and a car door slam closed.

 

Then a low voice sounds next to him:

“Care if I join you?”

Jensen feels something tense painfully in his heart when he turns his head. The universe really has it in for him today, because naturally it’s the last person he wants to see right now.

“How did you find me?”

“I have friends in high places.”

Jensen raises his eyebrows incredulously.

“No seriously, I had Chad hack into the system of the cell phone company and track down your GPS feed.”

“He _does_ that?”

Jared rolls his eyes and smiles broadly.

“He does have a day job, you know? Manning the counter from time to time, that’s just a favor.”

Jensen shakes his head before looking out over the water again.

“Some friends you have.”

“I could say the same for you. Misha called me, because he was worried sick about you.”

Jensen’s head whips around sharply.

“How the heck did _Misha_ get your number?”

“Stole it via bluetooth apparently. He was quite surprised about who he got at the other end of the line, too, but he got over it to enlist my help in finding out what’s got your knickers in a twist so bad that you had to lose your head and run off like that without explanations.”

 

Jensen grips the edge of the stone tightly to keep himself from punching Jared right in the face for being so dismissive, but he’s here now, isn’t he? This is Jensen’s chance to confront Jared and to make this as quick and painless as possible, before he’s in any deeper. He can’t look at the other man though.

“I saw you this afternoon on the street, laughing… kissing her. You looked… happy.”

“Ah… I thought that might have been an issue.”

He tries not to let the pain that blossoms in his chest show on his face. So, Jared’s not even denying it.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Jensen? Baby, look at me for a moment?”

Jensen wants to rage, and scream and throw his fists at the man for being a two-timing bastard, even though he doesn’t feel like he really has the right, but the last thing he wants right now is to look at Jared.

“Jensen, _look at me.”_

Jensen can’t find it in himself to resist Jared’s voice, and he turns around to look at the other man properly. His jaw is set in a determined line, hair plastered to the forehead in wayward curls from being out in the rain, and his hazel eyes sparkle with something that might be half sadness, half exasperation.

 

“Listen, before you go on, there’s some things you need to know about me, alright?”

Jensen nods defeatedly and lowers his eyes. Jared doesn’t give him an out though, grasping his chin and tipping his head up, so that Jensen has no choice but to look him in the eye.

“Now, I’m a very hands-on person, I’ve always got my paws all over people. Ask my friends; they’ll tell you all about it. They all know and accept it; the people who don’t are the ones I couldn’t care less about. But I admit that it might lead to… misunderstandings from time to time.”

“What exactly are you trying to say here?”

“You see, Genevieve – the one you saw with me this afternoon – she might be my girl, and if I ever, _ever_ wanted to marry a woman it would be her. But I think her boyfriend of two years would be very cross indeed if she gave up fag-hagging to go after my ass. Granted it’s a fabulous ass and she’s told me how tempting it is more times than I can count, but I’m sorry, she’s just not my type.”

Jensen blinks, confused. He thinks he got some of it, but the rest is still a jumbled mess in his head. He heard ‘marry’ and ‘boyfriend’ and ‘Jared’s ass’ … and what?!

“But she’s gorgeous, how can she not be your type?”

Jared huffs, and his lips stretch into an amused smile.

“Too much up here, too little down there, Jensen.”

“Huh.”

Jensen just stands there, struck dumb for a second before things finally fall into place.

“So, you’re…”

“Yes, definitely.”

“And you two aren’t…”

“No, we aren’t.”

“Oh.”

Jensen looks at Jared’s smiling face for a moment, before realization hits him.

“OH.”

Suddenly, his knees feel very weak, and his legs buckle under him. Jared catches him and immediately wraps him into his heavy woolen coat, pressing Jensen against the heat that pours off his chest.

“Jesus, Jensen, you’re freezing. Come on, let’s get out of here, before you catch your death.”

Before he can think about it, Jensen follows Jared to his car and lets himself be bundled in.

 

~*~

 

They arrive at what must be Jared’s doorstep after about half an hour driving in silence. Jensen needs to sort things out in his head, and Jared thankfully gives him space to order his thoughts. He also cranks up the heat in the car, which Jensen is grateful for, but it also brings to his awareness how cold his fingers are, and how much his teeth are chattering all of a sudden. The building in front of which they stop is imposing, made of brick, and it looks like it might have been a factory or something in earlier days. When Jared pushes the control on the dashboard, the metal garage door rattles and opens. Jared steps into to the elevator, obviously expecting Jensen to follow him, and when they finally stop in front of a steel door, it dawns on Jensen that they are where Jared _lives,_ and he’s suddenly incredibly anxious to see what the home behind the door looks like. A quick punching in of the key code unlocks the heavy looking door, and Jared drags it open without effort. Unsurprisingly, there’s a studio apartment, with high ceilings, and a sprawling layout behind the door just as he was expecting, considering the type of building they’re in. Jared instantly veers off behind the kitchen counter to the left, stashing his keys and flipping some switches that illuminate the living area to the right with lots of indirect light. The furniture’s quite modern, without looking sterile, and there’s lots of knick-knacks spread all around that Jensen would like to explore, but he’s kind of frozen in the doorway, while Jared is puttering around.

 

The other man’s voice drags him out of his musings, just as Jared’s rounding the kitchen counter.

“Strip.”

Jensen feels his mouth fall open as he watches Jared drag his damp shirt over his head without further ado. He knows that they’ve started off their thing in a bit of an unconventional way, but he didn't think even Jared would have the nerve to fastforward like that. Meanwhile the other man is already opening his belt before he looks back up at Jensen, noticing that he hasn’t moved an inch.

“Come on, Jensen, didn’t you hear me? _Strip._ You’re going to make yourself seriously sick if we don’t get you warmed up pronto.”

That’s when Jensen comes back to the fact that he is, in fact, very wet, freezing cold and about to turn into a popsicle right on Jared’s threshold if he doesn’t get himself warmed up a little as soon as possible. His body is already ahead of him however, once again having that weird reaction to Jared’s voice, whose tone seems to simply bypass all the higher functions and hit straight into the lizard brain.

 

Jared kicks his discarded clothes under the kitchen counter, and, just when Jensen emerges from underneath his own shirt, he gets an eyeful of Jared’s very naked, _very_ trim ass, because he turns and walks to the partitioned area that must close off the bedroom and bathroom. His thoughts are proven right when he hears the shower start a few seconds after the other man vanished behind the milky glass wall. Jensen stops dead with his hands on his fly, suddenly self-conscious, because he realizes just then that Jared expects them to shower, together. Naked, which they’ve never been in front of each other before. It’s stupid, stupid, and Jensen closes his eyes, cursing under his breath, because they’ve been to places that are so far beyond bare skin. Also, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s showered with another guy of course, but that image has never… quite had this kind of implication. He just can’t….

“Jensen, get your ass naked and back here, _now.”_

That takes care of the problem pretty damn fast.

Jensen’s out of his pants and up the couple of steps to the sleeping area in seconds flat. The bathroom adjoins, and when he walks through the open, sliding door, his breath stutters for a moment. Jared’s in the shower already, miles of bronze skin, glistening from the rivulets of hot water that run down his body. Jared must sense him there, because he flicks his fingers in a casual, summoning motion without turning away from the spray. Jensen steps forward cautiously, but the stinging cold that’s lodged in his bones makes him open the glass door with stiff fingers. Finally Jared turns and grabs his arm to drag him under the hot water. Jensen lets out a pitiful whimper, when the steaming spray hits his ice-cold skin, and Jared pulls him closer, until they’re plastered against each other, chest to chest under the showerhead. The water still feels like it’s boiling on his skin, even though it’s probably closer to body temperature than anything else, but the chill in his limbs makes the sensation a lot more acute.

 

“God, Jensen, right now you give ‘cold as ice’ a whole new meaning.”

Jensen’s too busy with his chattering teeth and his frozen toes to answer, but he doesn’t think Jared really expects him to. Big hands stroke up and down his back, leaving heated trails in their wake, and Jensen just takes a minute to enjoy the warmth that seeps into his body where he touches Jared. With his head on Jared’s chest it’s a really nice feeling to just let go, and let himself be held for a few moments, something he hasn’t had in far too long. He isn’t quite the type to go for an overabundance of physical affection, but the fact that he has it now brings home the fact that he’s been missing it. The fact that his partner is bigger than him, and he’s plastered against endless plains of hard muscle instead of yielding, supple skin, feels incredibly right for the moment, and Jensen wonders if he’s always been on the straight and narrow, not so much out of his own volition, but because the expectations and inclinations other people had about him didn’t leave any room for thought in a different direction. Because it can’t be that he just takes to intimacy and sexual interaction with a man like that, if he never had an inkling about it before, right? Jensen pushes the thought away though, for now. He’s sensing the feeling coming back to his limbs, and once the cold is not an issue anymore, the heat between them takes on a whole new quality.

 

“You’re insatiable, are you?”

Jensen looks coyly up at Jared and hisses slightly when their minute movement rubs the evidence of their growing arousal together.

“Hey, you were the one who ordered me into the shower with you.”

Jared grins down at him before nuzzling his jaw.

“Guilty as charged. And there you went without question. You have absolutely no idea how hot that is, do you?”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Jensen is amazed at his own brazen tone, talking back at Jared like he’s never done before, but he knows that the other man will come up with an agonizing punishment if he takes it too far. The way Jared’s eyes cloud over and darken however, the grip on Jensen’s backside starting to become rough and possessive are unexpected after their light banter.

“Are you offering?” Jared’s voice suddenly turns raspy, “Don’t offer if you don’t mean it, Jensen, I’m only asking you once.”

Jensen’s surprised how fast the encounter is turned around on him, but he know what he must look like to Jared, eyes widened, pupils blown, his cock jumping where it’s trapped mercilessly between their stomachs. He can’t very well hide the instant reactions of his body, because his heart is racing and his breath is quickening.

And from one second to the next, they’re in _that_ place again.

 

Jensen looks at Jared for a couple of seconds before casting down his eyes and turning his head to bare his throat. Jared doesn’t waste time, diving in to attack the sensitive skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder with tongue and teeth, working on what Jensen knows will be a spectacular bruise. He’s too busy keeping his feet from sagging away underneath his weight – again, pathetically, this _has_ got to stop – while basically the only thing keeping him upright is Jared’s vice-like grip around his elbows. Jensen barely recognizes the words when Jared mouths them against his skin, but the message is clear.

“Mine, mine, say you’re mine, Jensen. Tell me you’ll give me everything.”

“Anything you want.”

Exhilaration surges through him as the words seal his fate.

 

It’s like he unlocked something with his answer, and suddenly there’s no holding back for Jared. He pushes Jensen out of the shower abruptly, dragging a towel over their skin in a few cursory movements that are barely enough to dry them off. Then he crowds Jensen out of the bath and into the bedroom, giving him a shove from behind that makes Jensen tumble into the silk sheets in a tangled heap. When Jensen turns around on his back, he finds his breath taken away by Jared’s looming presence at the end of the bed.

“Stop me now, Jensen, or I swear I won’t stop until we’re through.”

Jensen knows this is the last life-line if he wants to hold back and give himself more time, before he goes all in, but even with the one word tickling at the back of his mind, he doesn’t _want_ to stop. So he rises up and folds his legs under his body to kneel in the middle of the bed. He can feel the cool silk slide against his skin as he spreads his thighs wide. Then Jensen slowly lifts his arms, hands open, palm up, and moves to cross his wrists behind his back, settling them right at the dip of his spine. Slowly, he lifts his head to look Jared in the eye.

 

He catalogues the reactions his display elicits very thoroughly. He can see how Jared’s breath speeds up, the pulse pounding fast under the skin of his neck, how the strong muscles in his thighs tremble from holding back all that coiled strength. His cock, hard and flushed between his thighs, is filling even more, right in front of Jensen’s face. Anxiety unfurls in Jensen’s belly, but it’s too late to change his mind, because Jared surges forward, his outstretched hand wrapping around Jensen’s neck almost all the way. Jensen chokes for a moment, because Jared’s surprisingly tight grip cuts off his air a little more forcefully than he’d anticipated.

“This is how you want it? Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you then.”

Right on the heels of his words, Jared presses his mouth against Jensen’s slightly parted lips, shoving his tongue down Jensen's throat without hesitation. Jensen has no choice but to open his mouth wide, trying to blink away the spots that flutter in front of his vision as he gets dizzy from the lack of air in seconds flat. Just as his lungs begin to scream for oxygen, and the feeling of panic rises in the back of his mind, Jared lets go and is gone from the bed, leaving Jensen disoriented and off kilter in his wake. While Jensen is busy taking heaving breaths to fill his lungs with enough air again, Jared’s suddenly behind his back, tying his wrists together with a thin leather cord. Jensen instinctively tests the bonds to find them snug, but not quite cutting off the circulation in his hands. Yet, with his wrists crossed, and the knot high above his fingers, there’s no way he can get out of this on his own. Jensen feels the slight dampness from the shower turn into a sheen of perspiration on his skin that is both arousal and fear.

 

He hears Jared putter around behind his back for a moment, before the other man moves in front of him sinuously once more. His eyes fall onto a little black box in Jared’s hand, and he looks up at other man with wide eyes. Jared smirks deviously before slowly opening the box.

“I wanted to give this to you on our next meeting at the club to lure you into my bed, but since you’re here already, we’ll just see if it fits right now.”

Jensen feels completely bowled over as he stares at the thick, gleaming silver ring lying on black velvet.

“I know, not quite a promise ring,” Jared chuckles, ”but I can guarantee that you’re going to get a lot more out of _this._ Just give me a moment to put it on.”

Before Jensen can come up with a response, _any_ response, he feels the cool metal slide over his skin and settle, heavy and tight at the base of his cock. Still reeling from the surprise Jared sprung on him there, Jensen only notices as an afterthought that there’s a thin leather strip threaded through a hole on the underside of the ring. Jared’s apparently in the process of tying this strip securely around his _balls,_ the same way he tied Jensen’s wrists behind his back. Jensen can only see the edge of the devilish grin that’s stretching the other man’s lips, but he knows in no uncertain terms that he’s not going to come tonight without Jared’s permission.

 

It’s a strange feeling, more like wearing too tight pants than anything else, uncomfortable, but not quite agonizing. Jared seems to pick up on his thoughts right at that moment, because he closes his hand firmly around Jensen’s balls, rolling them between his fingers in a way that drives Jensen wild with the sudden need that courses through his veins. Looking at Jared’s smug face however, makes him want to buck out of his reach, tug at the bonds to break free and give the other man his two-cents about all the teasing. It doesn’t look like it’s going to get any better though, because Jared tells him what’s to come:

“That’s right, tonight, we’re going to do things a little differently. Sweet rapture, Jensen, the other end of the game. I’m going to take you so high, that you’ll never want to come down.”

Jared produces a black cloth from somewhere and wraps it around Jensen’s head before he has any time to protest, effectively blinding him. Jensen realizes that he has no way to anticipate where or how Jared is going to touch him next. Apprehension churns in his belly, before he feels the bed dip from Jared shifting his weight.

“And this time, I want you to moan, and whimper and scream, but I also want you to beg. I want hear what my touch is doing to you.”

 

Jensen hopes that he’ll at least have a little warning for what Jared’s going to do next, but he can only hear the whisper of the sheets, before a slight touch makes him flinch in sursprise. His heart’s in his throat, but he curses his reaction in his own head, since the sensation is just a soft, ticklish feeling on his skin. Jensen wonders what is responsible for a moment, before it goes down from his neck to his chest, dragging over his nipple lightly, brushing over his skin with sensual, tingling strokes. He puzzles over what Jared is actually using, compared to the means he’s resorted to up to now, because this feels not at all like pain. However, as the touch stays light, and teasing but compeletely relentless, moving over every part of his body, he gets an inkling as to what kind of torture Jared was talking about. It whispers over all his erogenous zones with high precision, lighting the nerve endings under his skin on fire. The touch is never enough to quell his arousal even a little bit. It’s only a minute before the sensation turns from pleasantly tickling to excruciating, like ants crawling all over his skin, and it follows that no matter how far he tries to lean away, the stimulation racks up the tension in his body to hardly bearable levels.

 

Jensen has no sense of the time that goes by, while Jared seems to have no intentions of stopping anytime soon, and he frantically tries to scramble enough of his frazzled nerves together to figure out what he’s supposed to do to make it _stop_. Finally the agonized whimper that he’s kept down his throat as a misguided show of pride works itself up past his defences. He hears Jared somewhere in front of him.

“What, Jensen, did you want to say something?”

Jensen’s throat is parched, and he has to force the words out in a raspy whisper.

“Please…”

“What was that? I didn’t quite get it.”

“Please… please… no … no… more.”

“Now, you’re going to have to be clearer than that. Do you not want me to touch you at all, or do you want me to touch you _more?”_

“Any..thing, Jared, just…”

He hears a gasp, and suddenly Jared’s fingers curl around his jaw, dragging his mouth open slightly.

“God, I love how your mouth stretches around my name,” Jared’s thumb slides over Jensen’s bottom lip before slipping inside to the first knuckle, ”makes me want to think about all the ways I’d like to use that mouth right now. Want to shove myself inside you, until you’re choking on it, stretch your lips impossibly wide around me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d take to it like the natural you are.”

 

He forces his thumb further into Jensen’s mouth, making him swirl his tongue around it, before Jensen decides that it’s time to do some teasing of his own. He catches the thumb lightly between his teeth, to keep it steady. It’s true of course that he’s never done this before, and he’s definitely not ready to try it out on another man’s cock, but he’s had enough blowjobs of his own to know the ropes. So he closes his lips, slowly sliding down to the juncture of Jared’s fingers, sucking tentatively, tasting the salty tang of sweat, and something extra, that must be Jared’s own essence. After a few moments, he gets a little more confident, moving his head, while Jared seems to be frozen in place, the slip-slide of wet skin against his lips obscenely satisfying. He loathes that he can’t see Jared’s reactions, but it's only a few seconds later that the response only comes.  Jared shakes off his stupor and wrenches his hand away.

“You’re bloody well not allowed to _bend_ the rules just like that. It will always come back around, Jensen.”

Suddenly, Jared grabs him by the scruff of his neck and turns him around to throw him on the bed face first. Due to the blindfold, the disorientation is still spinning in his head, when Jared arranges him as he sees fit, thighs spread, ass high in the air, face buried in the sheets, because he can’t use his arms to support himself. From one second to the next, Jensen goes from cocky to feeling completely exposed and vulnerable, and he knows that Jared is driving the point home that he’s still in charge. He splays his big hand onto the globe of Jensen’s ass, the thumb that is still wet with saliva slowly stroking over Jensen’s entrance. He holds his breath until he’s dizzy with anticipation, waiting for Jared to finally make his move. Jensen barely has time to recognize the snick of plastic, before a copious amount of cold lube drizzles right down the cleft of his ass, and one of Jared’s long fingers presses in, until he’s down to the third knuckle.

 

It’s not as bad as he remembers last time, but it still smarts, until Jared’s felt his way around to that place that makes Jensen want to scream if only he wouldn’t get a mouthful of silk sheets that way. A terrible ache starts to radiate from his groin, reminding him of the fact that Jared can drive him wild all he wants, but Jensen won’t get any release, until that wretched knot is untied that's literally got his balls in a vice right now. By the time Jared’s slipping in his second finger, Jensen’s thighs are trembling uncontrollably, barely steady enough to keep him upright. Jared takes his sweet time stretching him open wide, while his other hand is all over Jensen’s body, stroking from his back to the sensitive insides of his thighs, in a way that makes Jensen babble incoherently into the sheets. Finally, Jared’s got three fingers in, moving them with slow, steady strokes, spreading and brushing against his prostate every so often – enough to rack his need up a notch every time, but not enough for him to get anywhere with it.

 

Then Jared withdraws his fingers completely, and it’s the strangest sensation. Jensen feels bereft and cold, before he realizes what’s going to come next, and suddenly he remembers how big Jared is and this is so not going to work, ever. It’s a sheer impossibility to move away from the position he’s in, arms tied behind his back, and his center of gravity completely off kilter. Never mind that Jared can easily subdue him into any position he wants, Jensen’s instincts scream at him to get out of reach, right the fuck now.

“No… no, don’t… I can’t… I…”

The words get stuck in his throat when Jared puts a hand on his hip and the other one right between his shoulder blades, holding him still as he presses into Jensen with one slow but merciless thrust. Jensen roars, because it hurts. If he had his hands free he would be pounding his fists onto the matress, but as it is he can only futilely clench his fingers, while the sensations course through him with no outlet. At least, Jared does him the favour of staying still once he’s all the way in, mumbling under his breath:

“It’s alright, baby, stay with me… God, you’re tight… you needa… relax a little…”

Jensen feels his muscles flutter around Jared, but the burn fades by the second as he slowly adjusts to being split open, stretched wide.

 

They stay like that, heaving breaths loud in the surrounding silence, until Jared’s hand moves from Jensen’s shoulder blade to wrap around his neck, dragging him up against his broad chest as he sits back on his haunches. Jensen moans unabashedly, half from pain, half from arousal, because the change of postion makes Jared sink impossibly deeper into him. With the first slow roll of the other man’s hips, any more thoughts of flight go right out of the window, drowned by the heat that unfurls in his belly. Jared’s hand is still on his neck, not quite completely cutting off his air, but making it difficult to take anything more than shallow, panting breaths. It’s a heady feeling, being surrounded by Jared like that, knowing that he holds every last shred of control literally in his hands. They move together in a jumbled rhythm, undulating hips and shallow thrusts, but it’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough…

“God, Jensen, you’re glorious, I wanna… I…”

Suddenly, he pulls away completely, leaving Jensen reeling before he’s coaxed into turning over and Jared’s back in his space, knocking his thighs apart with his knees, and drawing him up until their groins are flush together. He lifts Jensen’s hips and slides right back in like it’s nothing. Jensen hisses when his burning muscles are stretched once again, but he’s distracted by Jared ripping the cloth away from his eyes, and suddenly they’re face to face, Jared crashing their lips together in a savage kiss.

 

Jensen feels Jared’s hands on his ass, pressing them together, until Jared’s cock brushes over _that_ spot, and Jensen breaks the kiss to throw his head back in ecstasy. He feels a strong tug behind his back and suddenly his hands are free, the leather cord falling away. For a moment, he has no idea what do with his hands now that he can move them anywhere he wants, but then he wraps them around Jared’s shoulders, gripping his hair, pressing them together like he wants to crawl into Jared, kissing, biting, bringing his hips down to meet Jared’s frantic rhythm, and he’s close, he’s so damn close…

 

The ache in his groin just keeps getting worse, but he can’t stop, he can’t fucking stop, chasing his release mindlessly as he feels Jared come undone under him, inside him, all around him. He holds him through the tremors of his climax, watches Jared’s blissed-out expression triumphantly, taking almost as much satisfaction from having pushed the other man over the edge as he would in his own release. Still, he’s at the end of his rope, oversentizised and raw, when Jared opens his eyes and pushes him down onto his back. Then he moves down and looks up at Jensen through his lashes for only a second before sliding Jensen’s cock down his throat in one smooth stroke at the very moment he undoes the last barrier that’s between Jensen and that blinding, burning height.

 

~*~

 

Jensen wakes from the morning rays on his face and takes a deep breath, feeling a bit like a stranger in his own body. He aches in places he’s never quite acknowledged before, but the warmth that seeps into this skin from the heavy limbs tangled with his remind him that it was well worth it. He slowly turns and props his head into his hand, studying Jared’s features that are relaxed in sleep. He looks peaceful, vulnerable and very young, but strong and beautiful. Jensen still hasn’t quite worked through all the issues and obstacles that have opened up for him lately, turning his life upside down, but as he looks down at Jared, delicately brushing a strand of his brown curls away from his forehead, it doesn’t seem so important anymore.

“You’re going to dinner with me tonight.”

Jared doesn’t even open his eyes to gauge Jensen’s reaction as he lays down the law, and it makes Jensen chuckle.

“Is that so?”

“Hmhm… found you, not letting you go again, even if I have to take you out on a date.”

“Don’t you have that one backwards?”

Jared opens his eyes a slit, so that the hazel is barely visible as he looks at Jensen.

“Doesn’t matter, gonna make you stay, whatever it takes.”

He tries to imagine what will happen if they find out that they can’t stand each other when they go somewhere where they can do nothing but talk. The thought scares him, and he wonders whether it would be better to put a lid on this before they find out. There’s blood rushing in his ears, and an odd sensation tugs at Jensen’s stomach that feels a lot like falling. But when he looks up into hazel eyes, he realizes that Jared is falling right next to him.

Jensen leans forward to slide their lips together in a sensual, delicate kiss.

Maybe they’ll crash and burn.

But maybe they’ll just stay on this high forever.

Time will tell.

 

 

 

End.

 

 

 

 


End file.
